Seagulls cried mournfully in the sky as they wheeled through the powdery blue expanse. Sanji took a deep breath, wishing he had a cigarette or something to occupy him as he waited. The tiny square of blue that let him see the outside world was not enough to distract him.
He didn't know where the others were. He knew the general vicinity in which they must be, but he wondered who was up next.
The sound of a roaring crowd met his ears. He could hear them, screaming in self-righteous pleasure or grief, or for the primal joy of screaming. He shook his head sadly. Most of the people watching the spectacle today wouldn't understand their circumstances, or why they had chosen to be pirates. He smiled a little; one of the only things that marked them as pirates was their Jolly Roger, capped with the infamous straw hat.
Speaking of straw hats…he saw a flash of yellow in the sky through the iron prison bars. Sanji shifted until he caught sight of the object that had caught his attention. It was a tattered straw hat, with a faded red ribbon above the brim.
So it was done.
Sanji angrily dashed away the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes—"Shitty dust in here…"—and resumed his original position. So the Pirate King was dead.
It was too bad, Sanji thought, that he couldn't see All Blue before he died.
---
Zoro looked at the worn wooden steps before him and scowled. He could smell blood in the air, above the metal tang of his handcuffs and the sweat of far too many humans packed into far too little space. A slight breeze ruffled his green hair, and he missed the sound of clinking swords or earrings. Both had been confiscated at Impel Down. All he had left was the tattered bandana that hung around his neck and the scraps of cloth that were once a clean white shirt, black pants, and haramaki. He hadn't even been allocated a prisoner's uniform.
He could feel the crowd's mood change subtly as he climbed the steps. He wondered whether Kuina was watching from heaven. He wondered for a moment whether each step was taking him closer to her, in the physical and metaphysical sense.
The heavy smell of blood was stronger. He had forced himself, several minutes ago, to look at the dripping body they had carried down from the executioner's platform. It was the last tribute Zoro could pay to his captain. Somewhere along the line, the straw hat had fled from its perch and gone sailing with the wind.
Finally, he was on the platform. It was slick with blood, and the soldiers' boots made an odd squelching sound with each step.
Funny, what one notices at times like these.
Zoro tilted his head back, taking a last look at sparkling ocean and the verdant treetops. They were back at Roguetown, the place of the beginning and the end. Seeing that most of their crew had originated from East Blue, it was the best place to broadcast to such a large live crowd. It wouldn't do to make another city as famous as the resting place of the Pirate King.
Zoro knew that the others were still alive, at the moment. He would be the second to die today. He vaguely wondered if they were going in order of bounty prices. Who would be next?
Such thoughts were troublesome. He felt someone pushing him to his knees; the wood was rough, but he slid easily over the blood. Someone was naming his crime and punishment over the Den Den Mushi. Foolish. It's not like anyone was unaware of what was going on today.
The last thing he saw was a flash of silver out of the corner of each eye.
---
Chopper sat in his cell miserably, alone. "Everyone…" he whimpered pitifully. "Where are you?"
"Don't worry, Chopper! We'll be together…soon," Luffy said.
Zoro ruffled the top of his head as well as he could through the bars of their conjoined cells. "Keep your chin up, kiddo, and make yourself a man."
Chopper sniffled. Those parting words had been made moments before the crew had been separated. He hadn't seen any of them since, and that had been nearly two days ago.
The sound of heavy footsteps told him that it was his time now. He sniffed the air, and caught faint traces of the rest of the crew.
He also caught the overpowering stench of blood.
When he was dragged into the sunlight and he saw rivulets of dark red liquid running down the executioner's platform, he knew that he was the last. He could detect stronger smells here, of his crew. This did not bode well. It meant that they had all spent time on these steps, and that his scent would be the last of their crew to mark it.
Chopper swallowed bravely. The sun was beginning to sink under the ocean's surface, and Chopper briefly reflected on how beautiful the sea was.
---
The straw hat flew through the air, over hot currents and between tall buildings. It tore free of Roguetown and fell into the water.
Perhaps a nautically-inclined young man would pick it up and feel the Pirate King's spirit emanating from the old hat, and carry on the legacy.
---
A/N: Writing this was thoroughly enjoyable—not because I like writing about death, but because it's the best flow I've had in a long time. Water Sector and The End of Seclusion are both pretty much stagnant in my mind, oh dear. Please feel free to read into this story however you wish.