Title: Robin's Choice
Rating: T
Characters: Franky/Robin
Chapter: 2 of 4
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.
Warning: Spoiler warning through the Enies Lobby arc, which ends around episode 324 or so.
CHAPTER TWO
The island was small and dull. As Franky had observed from onboard the Thousand Sunny, the location served mainly as a port for trade. The residents were neither prosperous nor poor. The island also seemed to be a relatively safe place, despite the frequent visits from pirates and the lack of a marine presence.
But Franky could have cared less about these fleeting observations. None of it mattered unless it could help him find Robin.
As he briskly walked past the shops, Franky noticed an inviting bookstore. He glanced at it for a moment, but did not slow his pace. Although the store contained dozens of high shelves that could have obscured even Robin's height, it would be a waste of time to look inside. She wasn't there. He knew where she was—or at least, what kind of place he was looking for.
As he remembered the instructions that were given to Robin, Franky felt he could almost hear the icy chill that accompanied the baritone voice of Aokiji, one of the feared Marine admirals.
"I'll wait in an abandoned house near the highest point of that island. It won't be visible from the town, but there's only one path you can take to reach the peak, and there won't be any other buildings you'll encounter."
As Franky looked around at the terrain, it was obvious where he needed to go. Beyond the shops and buildings, the land started to rise, and ahead of him was a small, jagged mountain covered in thick greenery. He figured that if he kept walking in that direction, he would find the path that Aokiji had mentioned. His direction set, Franky quickened his pace-and stopped only once, when he overhead a snippet of conversation that caught his interest.
"Ahh, what? She wanted to go up there? You didn't tell her the way, did you?" A plump, middle-aged woman asked shrilly, her tone disapproving.
"Well, of course I told her. It's not like it's a secret," the younger woman replied, thrusting a hand in the air defensively.
"But it's dangerous—" the older woman interjected.
"Don't you think I didn't warn her," the young woman interrupted sharply. "I told her that even our bravest men always go up there in groups, armed to the teeth, and that it's no place for a woman to be, especially alone."
"Surely she decided not to go up there after that!"
The young woman shook her head. "No, she just thanked me and walked off. I called after her again, telling her she'd get herself killed, but she just said 'Don't worry—I'm hardly defenseless.' I was just... I just couldn't believe it. I couldn't even say another word to her."
"How peculiar," the older woman murmured, shaking her head from side to side as though she didn't want to believe what she had heard.
Franky had heard enough. They've gotta be talking about Robin, he thought to himself. He was curious as to what the danger of the mountain was, but like Robin, he felt that whatever threat lay ahead, it probably did not apply to him. Instead, his mind drifted to Robin. He quickened his pace. He had hesitated for far too long, and he feared he may already be too late.
Thinking back to his earliest conversation with Sanji, Franky was only slightly surprised that the cook had noticed the strange dynamic between the two of them. For quite some time, Franky had harbored feelings for Robin that went far beyond how he felt about the rest of his nakama.
When the rest of the crew was nowhere to be found, Franky and Robin always seemed to wind up together. Even when Franky made a conscious effort to avoid her, he would end up stumbling across her path. The mysterious woman seemed to sleep for only a couple of hours a night. His sleeping patterns were also sporadic, and so, they spent many nights in each other's company.
Sometimes he would step onto the deck for a bit of fresh air, and find her sitting in a lounge chair, sipping coffee and reading a book. Other times, as he worked late in his workshop, she would slip in, as silently as a cat, and take a seat in a chair in the corner until he finally noticed her (so often, in fact, that he often refered to the chair as "Robin's chair" in his mind). But although he sometimes tried to avoid running into her, he just as often sought her out. He would tell himself that he was just making the rounds, but really, it would be an excuse to visit the kitchen, the library, or another place the dark-haired woman liked to frequent.
Franky came to understand he was drawn to her, and sometimes, he suspected that she was also drawn to him. From the first time he spoke to Robin, and realized that she wasn't the monster he had always believed, she had intrigued him like no other woman had before-perhaps like no other woman could.
He thought about what Sanji had told him. It was true that although they often seemed to seek out each other's company, Robin's responses often began to falter when the conversation became a bit too flirtatious. But sometimes, he felt like instead of anxiety, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself.
An honest smile. A content sigh. A delighted laugh. These were rare, but every time he got to glimpse it, his heart would begin to race. Franky inhaled sharply as he remembered one such night, when it was almost more than he could take.
Franky and Robin sat together on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, sipping their respective drinks (hot coffee for her, and cold cola for him). They chatted playfully while awaiting the sunrise, when Robin began to laugh.
He felt his breath catch in his throat as her irresistable laughter ringing out like a sweet melody, entrancing him.
Franky had seen Robin let down her guard before. He had seen her shed honest tears, and cry out for help. He had rescued her, held her in his arms as they escaped incredible danger. Yet in those harrowing moments, when all the curtains that concealed her were stripped away, it was anguish that was visible. Now, Robin's guard was let down once again, but he got to see something truly special—her raw happiness.
As a man, Franky found himself unable to resist his urge. As her supplicating laughter faded, he leaned forward in his chair toward her, gently brushed his hand on the side of her face, and kissed her.
For the briefest moment, she succumbed, and he swore that he felt her hand gently reach toward him, as if to pull him closer. Then suddenly, she jerked away, and he could see from the conflicted expression in her eyes that the walls were back in place, and the gates had been locked and sealed.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, raising one hand toward her, as if he were trying to convince himself to stop. "I shouldn't have done that."
She averted her gaze, her eyes downcast. "I think I should—"
"I'm going back to my room," he interrupted. He didn't want her to feel like she had to flee. "I've got a few things to do. You stay and enjoy the sunrise."
Franky retreated to his quarters quickly, and if she tried to stop him, he didn't hear her words. He quickly closed his door behind him, and clutched his pounding chest. It was as thought he could still feel the electricity of the kiss on his lips.
Franky shook his head rapidly, trying to force his attention back to the present moment. As he suspected, heading beyond the outskirts of the town toward the mountain had led him to a single path. It snaked its way through the dense forest covering the lower parts of the mountain.
The route was obviously not traveled often, as it was overgrown with thick shrubbery. A short way into his ascent, he came across a fallen tree, which he opted to pick up and cast aside, rather than try to climb over it. It made a tremendous thump as it hit the ground.
After that moment, he became aware of a presence. He could not tell what it was, but someone—or something—was definitely following him from a careful distance. Franky continued onward warily, ready for an attack at any moment. Still, he could not quell his restless thoughts of Robin.
After their kiss, Franky had been careful not to wander around late at night. On those frequent occasions when the crew stayed up late into the night, drinking and dancing and having a jovial time, Franky cautiously retreated from the revelry before the rest of the crew had dispersed. If any opportunity arose that seemed like it would end with he and Robin being alone together, he made an excuse to be elsewhere.
Franky could easily see her discomfort around him, which she wore openly. Even in front of others, she regarded him with great reservation. He did not want to make Robin feel any more more vexed than she already was.
But as time went by, it was she who came to him. One night, as Franky fervently worked in his workshop, lost in his latest project, he was surprised to look up to see Robin sitting in a chair in the corner, where she had mysteriously appeared many times before. She leaned back in the chair warily, her intelligent eyes watching him with interest.
"Nico Robin," he said with a start, jumping to his feet and nearly banging his head on a protruding plank.
"Good evening, Franky," she nodded in return, the faintest smile playing at the corner of her lips.
He stared at her for a moment, stunned that she was actually there. Stunned, yet delighted. "I didn't hear you come in."
Robin tilted her head slightly. "You usually don't," she replied playfully.
Franky opened his mouth to speak, but realized he had no witty retort. He brushed a nervous drop of sweat from his forehead.
"Don't stop what you're doing because of me," she told him. "But perhaps, when you take a break, you'd like to come talk."
He nodded with uncertainty, and ducked back to where she could not see his face, trying to collect his thoughts. After pretending to fiddle with something for several minutes—in which he accomplished nothing at all—Franky came to a simple conclusion: he was going to ignore the elephant in the room. Robin seemed collected again, and he didn't want to rattle that bit of harmony she had regained within herself by bringing up the kiss.
Franky took a seat near her, and they began to chat…. And within minutes, his resolve was forgotten. Before he knew it, an awkward apology started to tumble out of his mouth.
"It was really stupid of me to do that. Sometimes I just get so caught up, and I do whatever I want to without thinking about it. I should've stopped myself—"
"Shh, now that's enough," Robin said, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. Franky felt his heart start to pound wildly.
"I didn't come here for an apology, Franky," Robin said carefully, taking great efforts to keep her voice calm and even. "You should realize that if I had any ill-feelings toward you, I wouldn't have come at all. I'm not angry." She withdrew her finger from his lips, and for a brief moment, grasped his hand.
He looked down, confirming that Robin's slender hand was indeed wrapped around his own. He tightened his grip on it, not wanting her to pull away.
Robin looked up at him, then cast her gaze downward, avoiding his eyes. Although she smiled faintly, her gaze was filled with sadness. "I hope you can understand that I will never be a normal woman," she said, her tone low but firm. For the briefest moment, the careful smile disappeared, and an expression of agony flickered across her face. Robin pulled her hand away, and crossed her arms in front of her protectively.
As much as Franky longed to reach out and grab her hand again, he restrained himself. He also didn't question her cryptic remark, despite how badly he wanted to. He was just relieved that he could be this close to her again.
From thereon, their encounters were a series of electrifying touches and flickers of intimacy sprinkled in their everyday conversations. A tender touch. A meaningful look. They even shared a kiss on a few occasions after that. But, sometimes after these tender moments, Robin repeated her same morose warning… I will never be a normal woman.
Franky understood that Robin's words were deeply engraved into her psyche, and they were robbing her of being able to feel any kind of intimacy. As he grimly continued up the mountain path, he considered that trauma, and why Robin was letting it lead her astray—leading her away from her crew, once again.
He wasn't the most intuitive guy, but she was hardly the first woman he had encountered with deep scars. For those other women, he may have shown them some kindness, but he never went out of his way to interfere. Much like Sanji felt like he shouldn't push too hard with Robin, with those other women, Franky left it just wasn't his place.
But Robin was a much different case. He felt a connection with her that he had never felt before. It went beyond her being a friend, beyond being nakama. This woman, who for much of his life he had regarded as a dangerous enemy, made him feel something unprecedented, and though he may have been a bit arrogant for thinking it, he believed he was the only man who had been able to move her.
Sanji said that Robin had immediately closed herself off when he had made a serious advance; Franky had seen that same reaction directed at him, but Franky had also seen her try to open up to him—dare he say it—romantically.
The air had grown a little bit cooler as he continued onward. Despite his wandering mind, he had remained guarded, and his caution paid off. When a nearby thicket trembled noisily, he turned around, instinctively blocking the mysterious assailant with his right forearm just in the nick of time.