Re-uploaded and beta'd with Seregunda's permission! I was enjoying the story too much to let it go, so when Seregunda dropped it I asked to take it over and give it a few tweaks. First few chapters will mostly be the same as the original, with some editing work done.
The Vinsmoke Family's naming convention followed a simple pattern. A number, the letter j, and finished with a vowel. As unimaginative as a family of assassins tended to be regarding life outside of murder, these numbers reflected the age of the children. Reiju, the eldest child and first daughter, was the first born. Ichiji, the eldest son. Niji, the second son. Sanji, the third son. Yonji, the fourth son.
But there was one instance in time where this naming pattern wasn't quite followed to the usual 't'. Born several moments after Yonji, and the Vinsmoke patriarch, Jajji, not having been expecting a final child in the first place, the name was so chosen. Mataji Vinsmoke. The fifth Vinsmoke born that day.
Mataji Vinsmoke who remembered things that had never happened.
A woman she called 'Mum' who seemed much kinder than her own mother, a gruff father, a small fluffy dog with a perpetually stupid expression, one brother, one sister, machines that flew through the sky carrying hundreds of passengers, men who walked on the moon, gadgets that allowed instant communication between friends despite being separated by thousands of miles.
The information in her head was fuzzy, but it was there.
Mataji had made the mistake of mentioning these imaginings to her siblings once when she was seven. Yonji, being the youngest, and Reiju, being kinder than the others, were the only ones not to laugh.
Each of the Vinsmoke siblings looked invariably similar, and these similarities were not restricted simply to their colour palette. While they each had the same shade of vibrant blonde hair, blue eyes, and oddly curling eyebrows, their facial architecture was remarkably alike. However while each of the other siblings had eyebrows that curled asymmetrically in an anticlockwise direction, both Sanji and Mataji's both curled clockwise.
"Sanji, do you know why father wants to see us? We didn't do anything, did we?" Mataji lamented, dragging her feet several paces behind her brother who was stalking the corridors at a needlessly brisk pace. It wasn't as if either of them actually wanted to see their father, so Mataji wasn't entirely certain why Sanji seemed desperate to get there.
"No. We just need to get it over with." Sanji gritted his teeth, speeding up again and leaving Mataji moping behind him.
"AaaaaaaAAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaah" Mataji groaned loudly, but sped up to join her brother.
Noticing this, Sanji grinned, dropped his shoulder, and checked her into the wall.
"OOOF! Hey that's not fair! Reiju says you're not supposed to hit girls, Sanji!" Mataji picked herself up off the floor and hurled herself after her brother down the hall, but at this point he had too much of a head start and was cackling wildly as he ran.
"I don't see any girls here!" He called back, powering forward and leading them both more quickly to their father's location as he had wanted.
Within minutes, they both arrived at the door. Overly ornate, as everything in this family seemed to be. From the cutlery, to the drapes, to their curly eyebrows that Mataji swore she would pluck to within an inch of their life as soon as she got her hands on a pair of tweezers. For all their faults, and there were many of those, the Vinsmoke family knew what comfort was. Maybe not good taste, as in Mataji's opinion it was all a bit too gaudy.
Again, the words Reiju said in response to Mataji's possibly manic ravings rang true through her mind, calming her effectively as she and Sanji's chests heaved and they gathered themselves.
"We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heroes or victims. Letting our history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. Does it really matter?"
Of course, the eldest sibling probably regretted her words instantly as it had resulted in a stream of questions from Sanji about what a sex addict was. Mataji knew, the recesses of her mind whispered the meaning to her, but once again she was quite unsure where the information came from as she had yet to come across it in her lifetime. How Reiju knew what it was at their tender age, Mataji didn't want to know.
"Well, we're here now." Mataji sighed, noticing Sanji's shaking frame as he attempted to muster up the courage to open the door. Jajji had always had more cruelty for Sanji than any of the other siblings. Ever since they began the strict training regime that each of the siblings were expected to compete in. Only Sanji lagged far behind.
She pushed past him, grabbing the handle and twisting it thoughtlessly. After all, the fear of the suffering was always worse than the suffering itself in this case. Whatever else about the man, Jajji was still their father. Killing a pair of eight year olds would be highly unlikely.
Probably.
"Father, we have come as requested." Mataji bowed as she spoke, wiping any distaste she felt for her father off her face and out of her tone and ignoring the other occupants of the room. Sanji bowed stiffly beside her, looking every inch the frightened boy of eight that he was.
As Mataji allowed herself to slip into a standing position, she scanned the man and woman on their knees before her father in front of the burning fireplace quickly before flickering her blue eyes back to his. They were both wearing bomb collars.
Jajji Vinsmoke was a large, hulking man with an equally intimidating presence. His light hair was more reminiscent of Mataji's than anyone else's in the family, long, tufted, tangled, and hanging loose to his waist. Under his sharp nose, a long and thin moustache spiked upward, accompanied by a thin and small beard, and a prominent cleft chin.
"I see."
Mataji waited through the pause that she had known was coming. Her father knew how to intimidate people. He was trying to unnerve the two slaves kneeling before him by speaking to his own children in the same barking tone he used on everyone.
Mataji doubted the two were even taking it in at this point. Blood was running from their scalps into the carpet, which was already maroon for this purpose, indicating that they had been dragged to the room by their hair by the guards. A long gash was visible running down the woman's left leg, which would probably be permanently debilitated.
The man's unfocused eyes indicated a strong concussion, but those beady flint-like eyes were still attempting to track all the figures in the room.
Mataji allowed her eyes to rest on the bomb collars once again. The bomb collar is a device strapped around the neck of slaves. They are connected to a chain, which, if broken, will cause the collar to explode, strong enough to cause severe burns on the victim. Their purpose is to prevent slaves from attempting to escape, and only the key can unlock them. Although it is said that certain highly skilled individuals have had the ability to unlock them.
"Father, forgive me, but I was under the impression that we were not to bring our slaves from Sabaody to the North Blue." Mataji spoke evenly, tearing her eyes away from the pair who were staring at the two children with an emotion she could not pinpoint.
"Has Reiju made either of the two of you aware of the current state of the North Blue?" Jajji's deep baritone cut the air, and Mataji fell silent. Apparently he was ignoring her question.
"No, father." She and Sanji chorused simultaneously.
"Our foothold is weakening yet again. Within the year, I see our need to once again take to the seas as Germa 66 once more. For this purpose, I will be sending both of you and Yonji ahead to stay with relatives. Yonji has already been placed in the care of one of the harbourmasters, ready to leave with the new tide for the East Blue to stay with your cousins." Mataji kept her mouth shut with great difficulty.
Why her father deemed it necessary to send their younger brother away without any family to support him she would probably never understand.
And she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her curiosity.
"You will both leave in eight months. The true danger will not have taken hold by then, but you are both old enough to see it. Your elder siblings will stay with me, until we are ready to leave. As the future of the Vinsmoke family, you will see worse. Do worse. Your mind must be strong before your body will be." Mataji allowed her father's cold words to wash over her, eyes flicking once more to the two slaves bleeding out on the floor before flicking her eyes back to her father's again. She was beginning to understand, and she hated herself for it.
In her father's mind, the minutes between each of the quintuplets' births was gargantuan.
Sanji was too young for this. She probably was too, but she had years of pseudo-memories crammed into her head. Reality or insanity, they allowed her a mature outlook on life that Sanji had yet to grasp.
Jajji's eyes were arctic, even by the standards of the North Blue.
And Mataji could hear the words he barked at Sanji regularly in her mind. A dud. A failure. Too weak to uphold the good name of the Vinsmoke family.
For the first time, Mataji noticed the poker burning hot in the fire. The Hoof of the Soaring Dragon was crudely cut into the overheating slab of metal. The mark of slavery in Sabaody Archipelago.
"These two are to be your companions on this trip. Kenji here-" With these words the Vinsmoke patriarch pressed his cold iron ring into the small of the male slave's back, causing shivers of pain to wrack the man's body. Apparently there were more injuries on his back not visible to the twins' position.
"-was a pirate. He can be a shield for your journey. Ai shall be tasked with non-protective duties. These slaves are to be yours and yours alone, from this point onwards. Do you understand?" Jajji Vinsmoke plucked the branding iron from the fire delicately and held it between his thumb and forefinger by the cool handle.
"I understand." Mataji spoke quickly, not entirely trusting what would come out of Sanji's outraged mouth.
Her brother would neither want to leave the family, nor do what their father was about to ask of them.
Of only her, if she got her way.
Sanji was seething quietly beside her, but at least he was still quiet. His elegant fingers were flexing and clenching repeatedly, and she could hear his teeth grinding.
Sanji was kinder than she was, and younger in soul. He was sensitive. And sensitive people are the most genuine and honest people you will ever meet. He had cried for days when their mother had taken ill. He was the only one of the Vinsmoke siblings who consistently visited her in hospital.
Mataji was going to keep him that way if she could, he had been by her side for every moment of her life so far. Without him, her tether to sanity may start to fray.
Especially with the Vinsmoke patriarch breathing down her neck. After all, the only reason he had yet to start on her, was because Sanji was even weaker.
Jajji roughly grabbed both slaves by the hair, yanking viciously until their backs faced the children. Mataji had been right, their backs were flayed and bloody. That was visible even through the identical roughly-spun brown cotton shirts they both wore.
Mataji edged forward, partially blocking Sanji from her father's view.
Lord Vinsmoke plucked the jewelled dagger out of the holster he kept at his hip. With careful precision, the cloth was cut out of the back of the slaves' shirts and peeled off their raw backs.
Ai screamed in pain, but Kenji barely grunted. His hulking body didn't even tremble.
"Mataji, you first." Jajji held the red hot poker out to the younger twin, who withheld a shudder.
Mataji slipped her fingers around the grip her father had on the handle, feeling the weight slip into her fingers as he let go.
She had seen the Hoof of the Soaring Dragon burned into the backs of slaves before, she knew what her father expected her to do.
Sanji may not.
Mataji inhaled shakily and lunged forward, pressing the poker hard against the abused skin of the female slave whose voice immediately erupted into an eardrum-rupturing scream. Her father held the woman in place by her hair as she thrashed to get away while Mataji held the poker to the woman's skin for as long as was necessary.
Mataji forced the rising bile in her throat down, trying to keep a straight expression as the woman thrashed violently to get away and the smell of burning flesh reached her nose. It smelled disturbingly of pork.
Mataji wrenched the poker away as soon as her father gave a nod, overcome at last and gasping for breath as sweat dripped down her brow. Whatever memories she had or didn't have, she was fairly sure she had never done anything remotely similar to what she had just done to that woman before.
"Sa-" Jajji began to call Sanji's name, and Mataji reacted instantly.
She thrust the poker against Kenji's back before her father could finish calling Sanji's name to come forward.
The ex-pirate jerked forward with a loud grunt before stilling, his body trembling but not thrashing the same way that Ai's had.
Their father watched passively, loosening his hold on the man's hair and watching as pain wracked his body without much fuss.
After a few moments, he switched his focus to his daughter with mildly irritated eyes.
Mataji would never allow Sanji to participate in this. Even if she had to do it all. There were mere months between the siblings and their departure for the East Blue. She could keep Sanji away from their father until then. She had to.
Mataji wrenched the poker off Kenji's back and panted heavily, the smell of burning flesh now clung to their air and the only sound to be heard was her heavy breathing mingling with that of the slaves'.
"I was going to ask the second slave's imprinting of Sanji." The words were amicable, but their father's tone was anything but.
"Were you? I was too excited to do it again, I couldn't possibly wait." Mataji grunted, aware that her words weren't enough to fool Sanji, let alone her father who was an expert in these things.
"Oh?" He motioned for her to continue, Mataji struggled for words.
"Our comfort and sustenance comes from suffering, of all kinds." Mataji said slowly, watching her father's eyes dance with every word of her answer. "If we were to look at our family's history now, it would be a horror story. But it's our family." Mataji wondered herself whether she was lying or not. She had been living in this family for a long time, and she enjoyed the company of some of them.
Her father looked so deep into Mataji's being that she felt sure he'd see the truth. But she lied too well now. She was lying with every nerve and fiber and everything she'd ever done...She wanted him to find no good in her, and he didn't. It felt like there wasn't any now.
"Hm. Have the other servants take those two away. In three days they will be expected to serve as your personal slaves. If they step out of line, ignite the collar. If they refuse to work as they should, ignite the collar. If they are incapable of working at the level expected of them, ignite the collar."
Mataji levelled her gaze at somewhere around her father's left shoulder, trying hard to ignore the scent of burning flesh in the air and Sanji's accusatory gaze. As naïve as he could be, he probably believed she had done it for pleasure.
The siblings bowed deeply and backed out of the room.
The two slaves remained wracked with pain on the floor before Jajji as they dashed from the room with their metaphorical tails between their legs. It was only when they had been running for ten minutes through that enormous mansion that Mataji was overcome.
The entire contents of her stomach were reintroduced to the world again, via the hallway window into the rose bush.
"You shouldn't have done it twice then." Sanji hadn't kept running as he probably should have done.
"No, I shouldn't." Mataji croaked, wiping the corner of her mouth while hanging uselessly over the window sill. With her mouth tasting of bile and her nose still remembering the smell of burning flesh, it would be a wonder if she could ever bring herself to enjoy a meal again.
When Mataji turned around again she was faced with Sanji's scrunched up face. He didn't get it at all. Good. He wouldn't let her protect him if he knew about it.
"Well, we'd better start figuring out what to do when we leave for our cousins' place. Do you even know who they are?" Mataji mused aloud, changing the subject before Sanji could dwell too much on it.
"Um… No. I didn't know we had family outside the North Blue. We should check the family log after lunch." Sanji tugged his fringe thoughtfully while turning on his heel toward the dining room.
He always had this odd internal clock for whenever it was time for a meal.
There was no distracting Sanji from food.
"…Eh I think I'll pass on food for now. Big breakfast. I'll go get a head start on the log, catch up later?" Mataji hid her wince as Sanji shrugged and sprinted off to the dining room.
Her appetite wouldn't be returning any time soon, might as well make herself useful.
Mataji padded softly down the hall, sinking into the plush red carpet with every step. When she had been younger, and still trying to wrap her head around the second set of memories lodged in her infantile mind, she spent hours wandering the halls barefoot and feeling the ridiculously rich carpet between her toes.
Not for the first time, Mataji wondered if she was just crazy. Insane. Nuts.
Sanji acted his age, so did Yonji. Ichiji. Niiji. Only Mataji didn't enjoy playing, incapable of visiting the same imaginary lands as her brothers with the same level of enjoyment.
Sometimes she felt left out, but it didn't bother her as much as it might have another child her age.
"My strange little sister, I hear you have a mean streak almost as wide as our dear father's." Reiju's melodic voice chimed from a doorway as Mataji stalked past, still too engrossed in the spongy feel of the carpet to be taking in her surroundings.
Mataji didn't manage to suppress her jump at the unexpected voice.
"Only way you'd even know that is if you were listening at the door. Sanji hadn't time to tell you." There was no pretending not to have been startled by Reiju at this point, but Mataji clenched her teeth all the same.
She genuinely loved her elder sister, but Reiju was a bit too observant regarding Mataji's… eccentricities. The Vinsmoke siblings reacted so poorly to Mataji's first explanation of what her memories had jumbled into, that she decided never to bother trying again.
There wasn't any point anyway, when the only thing those memories really gave her was a more mature attitude overall.
"It is, isn't it?" Reiju was examining her perfect fingernails as she leant heavily against the wall, all the while looking more put together than Mataji ever would.
Mataji frowned as she kept walking. Loving her sister and feeling at ease with her were two drastically different things. At the end of the day, Reiju was already a fully trained assassin, while Mataji had yet to even master the basics. Being wary of her was common sense.
If Reiju decided it was time for Mataji, Sanji or Yonji to have a permanent nap there was nothing the youngest children would be able to do about it. Only Ichiji could fight on par with her, although Niji could probably manage to do well enough to escape.
"Well, I'm not going to tell Sanji." Reiju began and Mataji froze, not having considered the possibility that of course Reiju could tell her brother about her protecting him.
"But what are you going to do when you two begin your proper training over in the East Blue? You can't protect him all the time, and you certainly won't be able to slit a man's throat in his place when you are on a different mission on a different continent in the years to come. How often have you seen me leave on a mission with male company?" Reiju was lecturing now, in a harsher way than she would have Sanji or Yonji. Her strange little sister could always take harsher mental berating than the boys.
"I haven't." Mataji was looking morosely at her own feet.
"That's because we don't get missions together. As a girl, you will be carrying out different kinds of missions to Sanji. Are you old enough to understand what I mean? These missions are the kind that he absolutely can't do, he will not be accompanying you. You will not be able to protect him. Allow him to grow used to this world while it is still safe for him to do so." Reiju watched as a sudden realisation dawned on her younger sister's face.
Somehow, the eight year old girl before her knew what she would be expected to do with her body to make a hit. Before training. An unusual child indeed.
"Maa, I'm sure you'll get used to the idea. Just make sure it's before you leave for the East Blue." Reiju pushed herself delicately from the wall and began walking in the opposite direction.
"See you, I've got a hit to make."
Reiju made sure to put an extra swing in her hips as she walked away, enough to be sure her younger sister got the point as she rounded the corner. Her little siblings were so stupid and cute, it made her want to tease them all the more. She didn't have to tell them that technically she herself was some years away from being old enough for those missions herself.
'Something needs to be done. Something….' Mataji thought frantically as she strode through the hallway, no longer focussing on the feel of the carpet beneath her feet as she moved quickly through her home, as if on autopilot, to the library where the log was kept.
There was no way that sweet Sanji was going to be brought into this world and survive. At least, not as Sanji.
Mataji needed him. He was her lifeline. Everything else in this crazy world she was faced with, slaves and pirates and magic fruit and enormous oceans seemed much more manageable with him by her side.
First things first, Mataji was going to need to figure out who their relative in the East Blue was, when they were leaving, and what ship they were leaving on. The rest, hopefully, would come to her as she went.