I'm kinda obsessed with the Donquixote Brothers, so I wrote another fic. "5 favors that Rosinante asked of Sengoku (+1 that Rosinante didn't ask, but Sengoku granted anyway)" is part of a series called pipe dream. The first in the series is called "walk the line" and the second is called "and then it snapped (and they all fall down)". You can read them before you read this fic if you want a better understanding of what's going on, but it's not necessary. This fic works as a stand alone and from context clue, you can get a sense of what's happening.
Before you go on to read, just a side-note that this is not in chronological order. However, the numbers labeling each section of the fic does indicate the chronological order and Rosinante's favor being carried out.
3.
On a small island in Grand Line, there was a small town. In the small town, there was a hotel. In one room of the hotel, one of the windows was opened. The curtain draped across the frame of the window fluttered in the wind, brushing gently against a figure sitting in front of the window. The figure knelt against the ground, eyes closed and leaning slightly forward with his legs folded beneath his body. Against his legs laid another figure, torso against his thighs, head against his stomach, hands clenched in his clothes.
Blood pooled beneath them, drenching both of their feather coats. Autopsy found the matching bullet holes in their hearts to be the cause of death.
There were no signs of anyone in the vicinity besides the two.
4.
The Donquixote Family collapsed. All of its top executives were killed in the all-out frontal attack the Marines launched a week after the Donquixote Family's Don and second-in-command disappeared.
The rest of the Family scattered in the wind.
The Marines didn't give chase.
1.
"Rosinante," Sengoku said as he arrived at their rendezvous, and Rosinante smiled, even though it couldn't reach his sunken eyes nor erase the exhaustion and melancholy that lingered in them.
Sengoku didn't know when his attempts to unnerve Rosinante by calling him by his given name turned into a source of comfort for Rosinante. He didn't know when he began genuinely calling Donquixote, Don of the Donquixote Family, Rosinante, not just aloud, but in his head as well.
Sengoku did know he was getting too deep when the sight of Rosinante's wretched state elicited more concern than calculations of how to take advantage of it. Sengoku knew better by now to think that Rosinante would carelessly let Sengoku to touch his Family anymore than he allowed, which begged the question of what was troubling Rosinante so much that even he would look so exhausted.
However clumsy Sengoku soon found out Rosinante could be, Sengoku soon realized that the clumsiness only applied to him physically. His skills in meticulousness and organization was second to none. It wasn't a stretch to imagine him as the head of the Donquixote Family, if only the Donquixote Family wasn't an organized crime syndicate and Rosinante didn't looked like it hurt him personally every time his Family caused collateral damage.
"If you care, you wouldn't allow the Donquixote family to do this," Sengoku told him at the beginning of their partnership, when they have met face-to-face for the first time after Sengoku finally tracked down the anonymous person who called his personal home the past three times dropping hints of what atrocities the Donquixote Family was planning and how to stop them. The person didn't always call about every little thing the Family did, but he always called when large scale suffering was about to occur at the hands of the Donquixote Family. Imagine Sengoku's surprise when he called the person out to meet and it turned out to be none other than the Donquixote Family boss.
"They're my family!" shouted Rosinante, back then considered as Donquixote, in response to Sengoku's criticism of his willingness to let his Family run wild and harm innocent. Sengoku's eyes widened back then at Donquixote's response, at the evident way he meant family and not Family, at the way he lost control when he was known to have iron-hold over himself and his Family, at the sheer emotions in his response, and the telling, human way Donquixote gritted his teeth and looked away after his outburst.
Perhaps that was the beginning of the landslide from Donquixote to Rosinante.
After that, Sengoku learned to not question Rosinante about the Donquixote Family unless he brought it up first. Evidently, Rosinante wasn't in as much control as he seemed from the outside, and he was always willing to leave – not happily, considering that he called Sengoku out for a reason, a reason that needed the touch of an outsider instead of the Don - if he thought Sengoku was pushing too much.
Rosinante always put the Donquixote Family and its people first, even if he didn't agree with their doings. Sengoku always wondered why, until he came to realize that it was just the way Rosinante was. In the same way that the sun would always rise and set, the compass would always point north, Rosinante would always care until it broke him, because Rosinante was all too willing to care and fight, and the world was all too willing to sit there in all its indifference like a wall and let Rosinante break against it trying.
And then Sengoku would mourn.
"What is it now, Rosinante?" Sengoku asked, suddenly exhausted, not of Rosinante but of the way Rosinante tried and was still trying to bravely carry the world on his back by himself. "Your brother again?"
Sengoku never did like Doflamingo Donquixote.
Rosinante smiled again, and some of it even reached his eyes, although it looked wry, as though he was sharing a sick secret that no one else was privy to. Rosinante shrugged and looked at Sengoku instead of answering. "Can you do me a few favor, Sengoku?" he asked with the tone of a resolute dying man. Sengoku straightened up. "Promise me these five things and I'll promise you the Donquixote Family."
5.
Two weeks after Doflamingo and Rosinante's bodies were found and taken in by the Marines, Sengoku's Marine base came alive with the alert of intruders.
"Where is he?" hissed a boy that could be no older than fifteen, his eyes red like a demon's, swollen like he hadn't slept in weeks and shadowed like he was haunted. He was pointing a sword at him with one hand and calling upon a room-like bubble above the other.
Outside his office, he could hear the bangs of shot bullets, the sound of rotating blades buffeting in the wind, and the splash of something - someone - in the water.
Sengoku's jaws clenched.
"You shouldn't have brought them here," Sengoku said, trying to keep under control the unexpected anger that surged within him at the kids - Rosinante's kids - and their stupid, thoughtless action.
This was beyond reckless.
"Where. Is. He?" Law repeated, having no ear or eyes for anything else but what he wanted to hear and see.
Sengoku didn't have time for this. The kids had element of surprise on their hand, but it wouldn't last long. The Marines were trained for situations like this, not to mention they were in their own territory, outnumbering and outmatching the kids. At this rate, the kids would be caught and even Sengoku wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
The higher-ups were already displeased with his 'clumsy, careless and arrogant' destruction of the Donquixote Family, seeing as many of its lower tier members escaped. He couldn't pull any more strings, especially to keep members of the Donquixote Family out of the cell and off the execution platform.
"You will leave, now," Sengoku said. "Rosinante wouldn't have wanted you to do this. He wanted you all to be happy and free, doing whatever you like. Not this."
Law stared at him, scarcely breathing. The room-like bubble in his hand dissipated in a pop. "You knew Cora-san," he said. "You knew him personally, and…" Sengoku could see his mind whirling, connecting the dots, and could see the exact moment when he finally got the picture from the stricken look that overcame his face. "He plotted the destruction of the Family with you, didn't he?"
Rosinante's boy was too smart.
"He wanted you to be safe, Law, you and the kids," Sengoku said, as gently as he could. It was an admission of its own. Firming his voice, he continued, "You guys have to go."
"Cora-san," Law choked out, like it was the only thing he was capable of saying, of thinking. Sengoku couldn't imagine how painful it was to find ruins upon returning home, and to then shortly find out that the person who destroyed his home was the same very reason why it was home in the first place.
"I'll explain everything later if you want, Law, but not now, not like this."
Law looked at him, cheeks glistening with tears, and with a half-sob, cried out, "Room."
By the time the Marines recovered enough for a counterattack, the kids were already gone.
2.
"What favors do you want?" Sengoku asked. By now, he knew that Rosinante wouldn't ask of him anything that he couldn't give, and in return, neither did Sengoku of Rosinante.
"One," Rosinante started, holding up his pointer finger. "I want you personally to be on the case." He waited a moment for an objection, but Sengoku didn't bother. He had grounds to object since as an Admiral, he didn't get involve with individual cases, however big of a scope destroying the entire Donquixote Family could be, but this was Rosinante's first request and the fact that he asked for him specifically spoke of trust that warmed his heart.
Sengoku was clearly getting old and sentimental.
"Two," Rosinante continued, when Sengoku didn't speak up, "you have to follow my plan, which means that you can't tell anyone about this until the time is right."
"And of course, you'll judge when that time is," Sengoku said a little drily, and Rosinante's eyes sparkled lightly with amusement.
"I'll call you to tell you when the time is right." The light in his eyes faded as quick as they came. "I just need to set up some things first."
Those words would have been ominous to hear from an organized crime syndicate Don, if only he didn't sound so sad.
"Three?" Sengoku prompted after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Three, I need you to leave Doflamingo to me," Rosinante said and as soon as he did, Sengoku frowned.
"Rosinante, he's your brother and your second-in-command," Sengoku said, and when Rosinante looked like he was about to argue, continued, "He's known as the Joker and darkly, the Interrogator. You want to face him alone?"
"I know him, Sengoku, he's my brother," Rosinante said, using Sengoku's argument against him, "and I need you to let me deal with him."
"Will you kill him?" Sengoku asked, knowing the question was cruel, but necessary. Rosinante, iron-control boss of the Donquixote Family, nearly flinched.
"If I must," Rosinante answered a moment after composing himself, and Sengoku spared him the real question: Can you kill him? "With any luck, it won't come to that. That's just insurance."
Sengoku could care less about Doflamingo himself, but he felt for Rosinante, who cared so strongly for Doflamingo that he struggled to remain cool at the mere mention of him.
It didn't used to be like that.
He's at his breaking point, Sengoku realized. Rosinante was going to face off against his brother and then one of them was going to have to break.
Sengoku would have paid money to see Doflamingo being the one to fall, if only he didn't know that it was a double-edge sword. It was never Rosinante verus Doflamingo. It had always been Rosinante verus Doflamingo-Rosinante.
Rosinante would break either way, because he loved his brother too much and it would kill him to know that he caused Doflamingo's fall. It would also kill him if he failed to stop Doflamingo.
"What's the best case scenario?" Sengoku asked, because he wanted just a little hope.
Rosinante flicked a look at him. "My best case would be the worst case for you, Sengoku," he said, probably amused at this old man who seemed to be so keen on being self-defeating. Rosinante gazed up at the sky as he answered. "Best case scenario would be Doffy agreeing to my terms and nothing that I disapprove him of doing would happen in the future. Then I wouldn't need you to destroy the Donquixote Family and everything would be fine." It sounded highly unlikely and Rosinante knew it too. His lips fell down a notch. "It probably won't happen. Doffy's not the type to let himself be shackled down by anything for long."
Not even me, Rosinante didn't say but Sengoku heard clearly. He sometimes wondered at the Donquixote brother's relationship, but he didn't think about it too closely, though there were rumors…
Sengoku was more curious to know if Rosinante realized that he was slipping. From Doflamingo to the familiar, endearing name Doffy, in addition to volunteering information about himself. He didn't seem to think he would come back from this plan alive. Did he want to have a honest conversation with someone before he died?
It was a sombering thought.
"As long as you can get Doflamingo out of the way before I attack the Donquixote Family, I can promise you the third favor," Sengoku said, and Rosinante flashed him a small, grateful smile. Garp was never going to let him live it down if he find out that he was letting himself be led around by a kid's smile. "What's Four?"
Sengoku was startled to see Rosinante giving him a sheepish look. That side of Rosinante, he had never seen before.
"You might find this harder to accomplish than Three," Rosinante said apologetically.
Sengoku raised an eyebrow. What was harder than letting Rosinante deal with Doflamingo, which, in more formal terms, meant destroying a crime syndicate sans its two main key players. At least Rosinante didn't put claim over the top executives…
Sengoku might reconsider working with Rosinante on this if he didn't even let him capture the top executives.
"What is it?" Sengoku prompted, feeling an oncoming headache.
"When you destroy the Donquixote Family, I need you to make sure to kill all of the top executives. Don't let even one of them get away. I'll send you a document of all their abilities, strengths and weaknesses later."
Sengoku straightened at this side of Rosinante, the expected side of the Don of an organized crime syndicate. He just didn't expect Rosinante to be so merciless.
"You're judging me," Rosinante stated, wry amusement in his voice as a humorless smile spread across his face like a disease. "I'm not a good person, Sengoku. People like me can never measure up to the word on the back of your coat."
"There are many versions of Justice," Sengoku found himself saying. Rosinante looked at him in surprise. "It means something different to everyone, even among the Marines."
"You're comparing me to Marines, Sengoku?" Rosinante asked, raising an eyebrow, mocking, but the smile on his face became a shade more genuine.
Quietly, Sengoku admitted aloud, "You would have been a great Marine."
Rosinante fell silent at that, undoubtedly recalling the day when Doflamingo shot him. Imagine Sengoku's surprise when, following the sound of a gunshot and loud cries, he came across two dirty children, one of which was on the ground bleeding to death and the other which was crying for him not to die. Sengoku took them back to the ship doctor, the younger one - Doflamingo - staring at him with eyes full of distrust and at Rosinante with worry all the while.
Sengoku knew Doflamingo would grow up to be a dangerous character in the future when he left the dead body of whom Sengoku later found out to be Donquixote Homing - Doflamingo's own father - without a backward glance. In retrospect, that was nothing compared to when autopsy of Homing and cleaning of Rosinante's wound revealed that Doflamingo killed his father by shooting through his own brother.
Sengoku would never understand why Rosinante cared so deeply for Doflamingo nor understand how against all odd, those affections were returned.
When Rosinante finally woke up and healed, he thanked Sengoku for helping them and then buried their father next to their mother. In Rosinante, Sengoku saw something like potential, even underneath all the clumsiness. He invited Rosinante to join the Marines and extended the invitation to even Doflamingo, misgiving notwithstanding, since he understood that those two would always come in a pair.
Sengoku had hoped that being in the Marines would mellow Doflamingo out and be a good influence on him. However, Doflamingo refused to work for the Marines and Rosinante couldn't convince him otherwise, so regretfully, Sengoku watched them go.
Five years later, the Donquixote Family was a major player in the Underworld. Three years after that, Sengoku received his first anonymous tip through a call to his home.
"It's too late now," Rosinante finally spoke, almost too low to be heard, before shaking his head. "Anyway, Four is a little more of a two part deal. I'll ensure that you can destroy all the top executives, since you and I both don't want one of them to revive the Family if they managed to escape. Without them, the Donquixote Family will fall, since Doffy and I held iron-control over the Family and the top executives held reigns below us. There's no one after that, so here's the second part of the request. In exchange for the top executives' certain death, I want you to let everyone else go."
"Rosinante," Sengoku said, alarmed, because his request was so much worse than he imagined. Not as bad as asking to let the top executives go, but nearly as bad.
Rosinante interrupted. "Everyone below the top executives are minions, Sengoku, people that only fight in the direction pointed. They know nothing, and do as they're told only because we give them food and shelter. I'm not asking you to spare all of them, nor am I asking you to release them if they're captured. Only…" Rosinante swallowed. "If they flee, please don't give chase and hunt them down like dogs. If they surrender, please show a little of the mercy in your epithet. That's all I'm asking, Sengoku." Rosinante looked at him. "The Family will fall with or without them. Please don't turn this into a witchhunt or a slaughter."
Sengoku the Buddha.
Sengoku was beginning to think he should just change it to Sengoku the Pushover.
"Alright," Sengoku sighed, and Rosinante blinked, unable to believe his ears that his request was granted. Sengoku's heart, if possible, softened even further. Rosinante pleaded him to show mercy to his people, even though he thought there was a slim chance of Sengoku agreeing. Sengoku himself could hardly believe it he agreed either. He was probably going to regret it later when he was reproached for letting so many people go. "I'll show mercy to your people where I can."
"And eliminate all the top executives?" Rosinante asked, and sometimes, Sengoku had a hard time reconciling Rosinante in his mind, this multi-faceted man who could, on one hand, plead so passionately for his people's life and on the other, so casually request absolute death for all his top executives.
"Yes, I promise," Sengoku said, and then, Rosinante smiled, soft, pleased, and happy, and Sengoku was just so tired of dealing with the whiplash that came from dealing with Rosinante. "What's the last one?"
"Law," Rosinante said, and Sengoku blinked. It'd been awhile since he heard that name, since the last time that Rosinante asked about the Op Op Fruit and Sengoku said he didn't know anything. "I'm going to send Law and a few other kids far away when the plan is underway. When they come back to find the Family gone, they're going to do something reckless. Don't be too harsh on them. They're still just kids."
Sometimes, Sengoku couldn't help but think that Rosinante was a cruel son of a bitch.
"You're going to let them leave thinking that everything is okay and to then come back to their home gone?" Sengoku asked, his voice low and just a bit sad, and that did what a remonstration couldn't do.
Rosinante pressed his lips into a thin line and blinked rapidly. He looked so tired. "I need them to be safe," Rosinante said, plead, looking at Sengoku and willing him to understand.
Sengoku did understand, but, "It's a cruel thing to do, Rosinante."
"I've done worse," Rosinante snapped, vulnerability traded for barbs. "As long as they're alive, I can live with whatever that follows."
"But can they?" Sengoku couldn't help but ask, and Rosinante looked away.
"Look after them for me, Sengoku," Rosinante said instead of answering. "I just want them to live freely, doing whatever they want. I just want them to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."
"Alright," Sengoku said quietly, and Rosinante closed his eyes.
"Thank you," Rosinante said, frail with resolution of steel, the burden on his shoulders easing now that he made himself and his people into dead men walking.
Sengoku looked at Rosinante, and thought of angels and death.
+1
"Here," Sengoku said after he explained everything to Law and the kids as promised. The kids were all in various stages of tears by the time he finished, with the exception of Law, who did a great imitation of an empty casket no longer able to feel anything.
They all looked towards Sengoku after he broke the silence that descended on them all at the end of his story, and Sengoku was sure they were all shocked, but his eyes were on Law, Rosinante's boy whom he loved so much like his own and whose eyes widened with disbelief hope at the sight of the object in Sengoku's hands.
Law reached out, almost unbidden, and Sengoku carefully transferred the urn into his arms.
"Rosinante and Doflamingo's ashes," Sengoku explained unnecessarily, and watched as Law cradled the urn against his chest.
"Thank you," Law said, his voice cracked and wet, face hidden from sight. It was the most emotion Sengoku had seen from the boy all day. He was glad. "Thank you," he choked out.
They buried Rosinante and Doflamingo's ashes beside their parents.