Posted for the One Piece Big Bang 2016.
I do not own these characters. (The fact that Jora is not available to add as a character choice is hugely detrimental.)
This fic is a "slice of life" anthology. Therefore, each chapter is its own standalone story. So while I of course recommend reading the fic in order, you the reader, are free to read any chapter you please and in any order. Though there is an overarching narrative and timeline, each chapter is essentially its own oneshot fic. I would of course suggest you read the first chapter for exposition purposes, where you go from there is up to you. I hope you enjoy!
Cover art by my amazing illustrator: ViscountLeopoldSlug.
"The children are watching!"
- Queen Otohime, One Piece ch.625
Prologue
The North Blue. Approximately six years before the fall of Dressrosa.
"Permission to fire?"
Vice-Admiral Tsuru regards her crew, lined up at the ship's cannons. The ship of the Donquixote family is skirting on the waves ahead of them, their gunfire spattering across the water just shy of the Navy ship's hull.
"Fire," she says tonelessly.
"STOP! WAIT!"
The shrill voice cuts the air, and all hands pause over the canon fuses. Tsuru whirls angrily around to see Sergeant Canary, stretched out against the ship's railing, a telescope pressed to her eye.
"DON'T FIRE!" she screams. "PLEASE!"
"Sergeant Canary, what is the meaning of this?!" Tsuru demands heatedly.
"Vice-Admiral," she stammers, her voice quivering. "There's an, an infant on board! There's a baby!"
"What?" Vice-Admiral Tsuru is for once, taken aback. She thrusts a wrinkled hand toward the taller woman, who gives her the telescope with shaking hands.
Yes, the family had been taking in children. A hideous tactic that she was well aware of.
She raises the spyglass to her eye and peers across the waters onto the offending ship.
There was Doflamingo's freakshow of a so-called "family." All of them, all hauling weapons across the deck to return fire at her ship.
A strange, bizarre collection of people. The repulsive snail-like man. The grotesquely tall one. The one that hid his face behind a mask and goggles. The man perhaps only a few years shy of her own age with his foolish headwear.
And the ringleader of this circus himself, Doflamingo. Her eyes narrow.
"On…on the main cannon, ma'am," says Sergeant Canary softly, her voice trembling. The rest of the crew is looking on, perturbed, some of them trying to squint onto the opposing ship.
Vice-Admiral Tsuru looks past the leering vision in pink who is watching over the proceedings, to the unfortunate boy with equally unfortunate teeth who is loading the cannon.
There. On the cannon. An infant.
Clad in pink and perched on the cannon as though it were the most ideal spot in the world. A horse-faced woman with ridiculous hair bends over the child, no the baby, and picks it up in her arms. It claps its tiny hands.
There are what seem to be little growth sticking out from the baby's pink cap, and something black and shiny protruding from the infant's back that Tsuru cannot quite make out.
She barely registers these abnormalities. She is seething. Appalled.
A child can make choices. Poor, uninformed choices, but choices all the same.
A baby cannot make choices.
Her wrinkled hands are tight against the spyglass, and the baby waves its hands animatedly, blissfully and blessedly ignorant of the hideous company it is keeping. She feels sick to her stomach with rage.
The have already wasted too much time. The Donquixote Family's ship now has too far a lead on them. The baby is getting smaller and smaller as the ship breaks further away across the choppy waters.
"Vice-Admiral, I'm sorry," begins Sergeant Canary, her voice cracking. "What, what can we do?"
Vice-Admiral Tsuru lowers the spyglass and sets it back into Sergeant Canary's hands, her mouth in a grim line.
"We re-route," she says. "Wait for the next information from Sengoku. He has a mole in the crew. I'm sure no harm will come to the infant."
Rocinante would have his work cut out for him with this one, Tsuru thinks. A baby cannot choose to leave. A baby cannot survive on its own.
Tsuru was certain of one thing.
"I will see that man burn," she says quietly.
Chapter 1
Durance Island - The North Blue.
Three months prior. Approximately six years before the fall of Dressrosa.
"Let go of me! You filthy humans! Cowards!"
"Shut up."
The butt of a rifle smashed against the side of the Arctic Char fishman's head. He groaned and sunk to his knees, but did not faint, straining against the chains around his arms and legs. He was held fast by two slave traders. Already they had given him a dose of sedatives, and still he remained conscious, panting heavily. Though not fierce predators, Arctic Char were hardy, used to harsh environments.
"We brought him in boss," said one of the traders, yanking on the end of the chain.
"Excellent," said Disco, manager of the trafficking outpost. "I need your help with something, fish," said Disco. "I have a species here that I cannot identify."
"Like I'd help you!" the fishman snarled.
Disco sighed. "You fish get so worked up and aggressive over the most trivial things. I have one of your people here, or at least I think that's what it is. I'd just like to know what I've got on my hands, that's all."
The fishman growled.
"Bring it in!" Disco called over his shoulder.
"Boss do I have to? It -AGHHH! It bit me! Again! The little -"
There was the sound of an infant, screaming shrilly.
"Idiot," muttered Disco. "I told him to use tranquilizers."
A third slave trader walked in. He was wearing a heavy pair of gloves and holding upside down at arm's length, a screaming baby.
The baby had a healthy amount of blonde hair, from which poked out two tiny ivory colored horns. On it's back jutted out a gleaming black dorsal fin. Its gaping mouth was wide with a scream, exposing rows of tiny, sharp teeth; some of them flecked red with blood.
The fishman gaped at the screaming infant, his eyes wide.
"What the hell is that thing?!" he demanded over the infant's cries.
"Well we were hoping you could tell us," said Disco, shrugging. "We're not really sure either."
"Is this some kind of sick joke?! Get it away from me! It's disgusting!" the fishman yelled. "It's an abomination!"
"What exactly is it? Is it not a fishman?"
"What kind of sick humans would do such a thing?!" he shouted. "Is that what your world nobles force us to do with your kind?!"
"I have no clue what you're talking about," said Disco.
The fishman looked as though he might burst into tears.
"That thing's half…human," choked out the fishman. "Look at it. Look at its skin. It's body. What the hell have you monsters done…"
Disco raised his eyebrows.
"Half-human you say," said Disco. "I've never seen such a thing. How interesting. Well, we didn't breed this thing if that's what you're wondering. Some of my men found it, apparently you fishes just wantonly abandon your offspring."
"I'd abandon a shameful creature like that too," said the fishman, looking away from the screaming baby.
"Do you know what it is or not?" demanded Disco, grabbing the fishman's pointed face and forcing him to look at him. "I see plenty of fish pass through here, I'll ask another one if you don't know."
The fishman looked at the shrieking, sobbing child who was still being held as far as possible from the slave trader.
"The only fishmen species with horns like that are Fighting Fish," said the fishman, finally. "The Fighting Fish species comes from Dressrosa."
Disco paused. There was a lull, broken only by the baby's cries.
"Dressrosa you say?"
"Yeah, that's the only place you find Fighting Fishes."
Disco stood up. "We're done here," he said. "Get this one ready for the buyer. I need to make a phone call. Stick that thing in something so it can't bite."
"Yes sir," said the man holding the howling baby.
"IT'S BETTER OFF DEAD!" shouted the fishman as the traders dragged him away. "No fishman should have its blood mixed with humans! It's disgusting! That child doesn't belong anywhere! You hear me?! IT'S BETTER OFF DEAD!"
The North Blue – Spider Miles.
It was a rainy Thursday morning when Doflamingo got the call.
He was sitting in his study with a bottle of Diesse wine, reading the news, when the den den mushi rang. Sighing, and expecting nothing of particular importance, he picked up the receiver.
"Yes?"
"Hey Joker. I think we got something for you."
"Behheheh Doffy, this has been an excellent month," said Trebol oozing up to him, entirely too close, the family's ledger held tightly in his hands.
"You're too close," said Doflamingo, strolling down the grimy corridor of the Spider Miles warehouse, Trebol tailing him. "And good, means we're right on schedule. Listen, we need to make a little detour to Durance. Get the ship ready."
"Nehhh? Now? What for?"
"I got a call from one of our traders out there. It sounds promising. Go get Pica will you? And—"
He paused a moment.
"Go get Jora as well."
Jora, delighted at being chosen to accompany Doflamingo's most elite family members, trotted along behind Pica in her best fur stole and lavender striped dress.
Diamante was outside toying with a pair of runty teenagers and a scrawny twenty-something boy out behind one of the garbage heaps. A tiny girl lay unconscious behind them. Senior Pink and Machvise were looking on and smoking.
"Uhahaha, Doffy, care to join us?" said Diamante, single-handedly fending off the three attackers, as Doflamingo sauntered up with Trebol, Pica and Jora in tow. "I'm bored out of my mind here."
The would-be recruits had all turned upon Doflamingo's approach. One of the teenagers promptly dropped the spiked bat she was holding and bolted over the garbage piles.
"We're leaving," said Doflamingo. "I got a call from Durance. There's a good possibility of a recruit there. But we ought to leave. The nature is a little, time sensitive. I'll explain. Vise, Senor," he said, turning to the two. "You can hold off any runts who show up until we get back?"
"Certainly sir," said Senor Pink, straightening his glasses.
"What's this-innn?" said Machvise inquisitively. "You'll be bringing us back a new family member? Why Jora-chan, aren't you lucky, you get to go as well-innn."
Jora flushed with pleasure, straightening her furs.
"Oi, why don't you two just scram already, we don't want you," hissed Diamante at the two remaining kids. The other adolescent took off after his friend, dropping his rusty cutlass, but the child remained.
"Don't ignore me!" he yelled. "I'll show you I'm strong enough to join your family! Just –"
A fist collided with the boy's temple. He dropped like a rock.
"Ah! Corazon, there you are!" said Doflamingo, smiling at his brother's scowling figure. "We are taking a short trip to Durance. There may be…someone of interest there to our family. It may be an important decision and I would like my most trusted family members to help decide."
Cora fished around in his coat and held up a slip of paper.
NO.
Doflamingo frowned. "Cora, this is an important trip. It may hold a key to our family's future. And as part of my family, I value your opinion."
"Come on, Cora!" said Diamante. "There may be kids for you to beat up!"
Corazon glowered.
The small girl who had fallen unconscious behind Diamante groaned and groggily staggered to her feet.
"Please," she gasped. "Please just let me —"
Corazon whacked her upside the head. She keeled over; a cloud of dust rising around her tiny body.
Corazon stalked off toward the ship, taking all of about four steps before tripping and landing on his face.
"Oh dear," said Jora.
"Maybe he could have stayed behind after all," muttered Doflamingo. "I'm not sure I want him trying to kill the kid before we even bring it back to Spider Miles…"
It was a day's trip to Durance. The rain slowed their progress but for once the seas left them at peace and no Marines turned up for a fight. Doflamingo was beginning to think Vice-Admiral Tsuru's business with him was something personal.
"Joker, such an honor for you to grace us with your presence! Right this way, please" said Disco bowing grandly as Doflamingo strode into the dingy warehouse, followed by Diamante, Trebol, Pica, Jora and a reluctant Corazon who was nursing a bruise from falling down the gangplank.
"You've been turning a tidy profit for us," said Diamante, ducking under the doorframe. "Business is going well then, I take it? No trouble with supply and demand?"
"None at all, I have excellent sources and buyers," said Disco proudly. "Right this way."
Human trade thrived under the government's blind eye and the world noble's constant demand in areas such as Sabody Archipelago, but in the four blues one had to be more discreet. Traffickers had to be more careful as opposed to the lavish stores of Sabody's mangroves. Hence, "shipping agencies" on places like Durance kept the market going underground.
"Young Master, I'm still not sure why I'm here-zamasu," said Jora, her dual-colored hair bouncing.
"Fufufu," chuckled Doflamingo. "You'll see."
"And who might this lovely lady be?" said Disco, bowing to Jora.
"Who are you calling an ocean goddess-zamasu?" said Jora, dramatically.
Disco had long since learned not to question any of the company that Joker kept, as Doflamingo had always had an affinity for "eccentrics."
The warehouse seemed to be not much more than a typical shipping facility. Large crates were stacked up against the walls, stamped with their destinations.
Disco paused at a stack of crates and pushed up against them. They slide aside to reveal a long corridor. Disco motioned for them to follow.
"We only bring serious buyers that we can trust in here," said Disco. "Otherwise we might just bring out a select few individuals to meet the client."
They drew up to a heavy metal door. Disco produced a key from around his neck and unlocked it.
A cavernous room lined with cages of varying shapes and sizes gaped before them. Some empty, but most of them were filled with people who shrank away from the bars as they entered the room. The sound of rattling chains echoed around the room.
Corazon skulked around like an overgrown vulture, glowering at the surroundings.
Disco crossed the room to the furthermost corner, where a tiny, small cage was set aside, apart from the others.
The family members drew up.
The cigarette dropped from Corazon's mouth and lit his pants on fire.
Jora gasped involuntarily.
"It's a baby," she whispered.
The boy couldn't be more than a month or so old. But it was clearly hardy and large for an infant, laying asleep on its stomach. Doflamingo was not sure which was more bizarre, the tiny jet black dorsal fin jutting out of the baby's back, or the pair of petite horns poking out from its mop of sandy blonde hair.
"Is this really….?" said Doflamingo inquisitively.
"I have it on good authority," said Disco. "Had a fishman in here just last night before it was sold to a private client. Said that the only fishmen species with horns like that are Fighting Fish. That's when I called you."
"Kings of Dressrosa's waters," murmured Diamante, almost in reverence. "Legend has it their strength is comparable to sea kings."
"Neh neh," said Trebol, swaying in entirely too close to peer at the infant. "This doesn't look like any fishman I've ever seen."
"Well that's what I thought too," said Disco, scratching his head. "It looks like a human baby somebody just stuck fishman parts on to. But apparently according to my source, given the prominence of the fishman traits in the child, what we are looking at here is a half-fishman, half-human."
Doflamingo's eyes widened behind his glasses.
"Such a thing exists?" squealed Pica, speaking up for the first time throughout the entire exchange. Pica did not talk much.
"Apparently so," said Disco. "The fishman I had called it an abomination. Tainting fishman blood or something of the matter. Never had seen such a thing."
"Why the hell is he in a cage?" demanded Jora.
"It bites," said Disco.
"It bites?"
"Yeah, it's got some serious teeth," said Disco, holding up a bandaged finger. "Vicious little thing, we finally just knocked it out."
Jora made an uncomfortable little noise.
"Where the hell did you get this thing?" asked Doflamingo, bending down to peer closer to the cage. "Where are the parents?" he added suspiciously, glancing up at Disco.
"I'm not sure," said Disco, running a hand through his long hair. "That's the honest truth, I'll tell you. Nobody stole the thing. The kid was picked up by my traders, abandoned near the Red Line, I'm assuming reasonably close to either Sabody or Fishman Island. Can you believe those fish people just leave babies lying around in dangerous parts of the ocean?"
Jora bent down to her knees to look into the cage.
"Hello there," she whispered. "Aren't you a little sweetheart-zamasu!"
The child's eyelid's fluttered, and Jora let out a little giggle of delight.
"I didn't think they…you know…mixed," continued Diamante, folding his arms and looking at the boy.
"Me neither," continued Disco. "Parents could have been slaves, but one of them had to be a Fighting Fish Fishman or Merman or Mermaid due to how prominent it is in the kid. No clue where the parents are, or even if they're alive. Maybe its kind rejected it. Fishman pride or whatever the hell those barbarians call it. The one I had in here couldn't even stand to look at it."
The baby was blinking slowly and now apparently trying to take in the presence of the adults. Its eyes seemed almost too large for its head. It yawned and sure enough, the family could see the rows of shark like teeth poking out almost comically from its mouth.
"But Diamante had tipped me off you'd be personally interested in anything hailing from Dressrosa's region, and obviously you are my first priority over any client," said Disco. "Besides, I can't say there's a huge market for half-fishmen or infants. Most nobles aren't going to want to raise a baby just for it to be a slave, if the kid were three or four that would be one thing. And honestly I'd worry about it surviving if sold to someplace with other fishmen. Look, it's not perfect; the little misfit. Sorry I don't have anything a little more…whole. But, do you want it?" He looked hopefully at Doflamingo.
Doflamingo poked a finger into the cage.
"I'd watch out," said Disco. "It's a nasty little thing. Aggressive. The traders that brought it in were covered in bites. Just goes to show you those fishmen – "
"Shut up," said Doflamingo.
The baby drew away at first, and then reached out chubby hands to Doflamingo's large finger. Latching a tiny hand around Doflamingo's finger, it squeezed. Doflamingo cried out and whipped his hand out quickly.
"Doffy!" cried Trebol.
"Christ, those are strong hands!" Doflamingo said, shaking his hand. The baby began to scream, a horrible howl of a scream that showed off its array of sharp teeth in its open mouth.
"Hush now you, you surprised me, that's all," said Doflamingo, inserting a different finger between the bars. "I wasn't expecting such strength. You're quite impressive you know."
"To think that the best fighters in Spider Miles haven't been able to touch any of the executives, and the first thing this baby does is nearly break Doffy's finger," muttered Diamante. "Not bad at all."
The boy regarded the new finger warily, then grasping it again. Doflamingo grimaced slightly as it squeezed. The baby brought the finger to its mouth and began sucking, instinctively, as if for a mother's milk. When Doflamingo's finger failed to provide nourishment, it sunk its teeth into Doflamingo's finger, and bit, sucking on the cut.
Disco looked disgusted.
"That's a Fighting Fish for you, you idiot," said Doflamingo as the infant continued to suck on his finger. "That's just in their nature. He's not aggressive, he's hungry. "
"But we can fix that," added Doflamingo quietly, looking right at the baby.
"Maybe it wouldn't bite if you fed it something," said Doflamingo. "Get this thing out of here. He doesn't need to be in a cage."
"So you want it?"
"Yes. He's coming with us."
Jora let out a girlish little squeal of delight that was cut short by Corazon shoving her out of his way to approach his brother.
He reached into his coat and pulled out the card that said: NO.
"Corazon," sighed Doflamingo. "Regardless of your opinions on children, we are giving this child a home that he wouldn't have otherwise. This is a rare and remarkable child that will grow into something incredible for our family. Would you rather it die or remain a slave?"
Corazon glowered.
"Trebol, Pica, Diamante, Jora, have you any objections to taking in the half-fishman?"
They all shook their heads. Jora looked like she was about to burst; her hair was practically quivering.
"Really Young Master?" cried Jora. "We're, we're going to save him?"
"Well Cora, it looks like you have been outvoted," said Doflamingo, clapping him on the back.
Corazon stalked off, lighting a cigarette that promptly set his coat on fire.
"Listen, Disco," said Doflamingo fiddled with the lock on the cage. "We're on track to be expanding to the Grand Line within the next year. Business is good. If things fall in to place as planned, I'll set you up in Sabody, and you can manage the human market end from there. It will be far more beneficial than running this underground stuff in the North Blue."
Disco's jaw dropped. "Really Joker? You can't be serious! Thank you! Thank you so much! You won't be disappointed."
Doflamingo lifted the baby out of the cage. He gurgled and then started to howl.
"Jora, now, I suppose I have a proposition for you."
Jora stared at Doflamingo, straightening her glasses.
"We are a family of course," he said. "And we will all give this child the care that he needs to grow up a member of the Donquixote family. But an infant needs a caretaker. An infant needs a mother. I know what it is like to grow up without a mother. I know it is a bit unexpected, but….might you consider this, a special assignment?"
Doflamingo held out the baby to her. He screamed and bared his teeth.
Jora felt as though her stomach had jumped up to her chest, her eyes wide.
"Young Master, I—"
"I daresay it will not be easy," said Doflamingo, over the screaming baby. "But do you think you can help raise this next member of the Donquixote family?"
Jora's voice quavered.
"You know I will do anything for you, Young Master," she whispered. "I would be honored."
She carefully held the infant and cradled him to her chest, his dorsal fin snugged into the crook of her arm. He howled and promptly bit her in the shoulder. Jora cringed but patted the infant all the same.
"You won't be on your own," said Doflamingo. "Besides," he added with a smile. "Trebol and Diamante know all about taking in stray kids."
Jora looked down at the tiny, squirming baby. His screams had subsided into wails, his tiny little fingers clenching and unclenching.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked, and Jora yelped in surprise, her neck jolting. The infant had torn a fistful of her hair clean out and was trying to chew it.
"Goodness me!" said Jora. "You cannot eat my hair. There are better sources of protein. We will have to get you properly fed."
"Fufufu, I think we have a fair bit of shopping to do," said Doflamingo. "If we leave now we can make it back to Spider Miles by morning. There's some fish on the ship that I'm sure will keep the little thing for now."
Jora stared at the baby's huge, protuberant eyes, as they made their way back down the grimy corridor. She felt as though she might burst.