"Catherine! Dinner is ready, dear! Come on inside!"

Violet eyes blinked curiously as the sixteen-year-old teenager turned her attention to the building she called home. It was a brief opportunity for her to catch her breath, especially after vigorously training for a lot longer than she was used to doing on a regular day, and relax. Despite how hard she appeared to have worked to enhance her skills and grow stronger, she knew better than to walk into her current place of living while heaving like a dog in the desert. After all, when the people that resided in the house worried tirelessly about her and her well-being almost daily, it was rather difficult to get away with things that may bring up one too many questions.

As she stood there and relaxed for a little longer, the girl absentmindedly double checked to make sure her hair – blue as the midnight sky and reaching to the middle of her back – was still secured in her braid while blowing away a few strands that had gotten loose during her training. Her fair-skinned hand grazed over the locks delicately as if she were carrying a fragile artifact before allowing it to return to its original spot. While she was not too worried about it coming loose, since she regularly wore down, it was a habit she seemed to pick up over the years. It was not a big deal in her mind; she merely found it interesting that such a habit had been obtained, especially someone who often times did not mind the way she looked.

The moment her braid escaped her hand, she could not help but smile and sigh contently. The life of the young Catherine was certainly not an arduous one, but rather a life she had grown content with through the passage of time, especially with what she had been given.

She had a place to call home, people to look out for her like family, and friends that she could spend time with daily and keep herself occupied. The life she had on Sila Island was a rather peaceful one, so much so that it was quite a surprise to learn about any disturbances. Ever since the day she arrived on the island years ago, maybe even long before then, it was considered to be a place of neutral ground, where people of different backgrounds, faiths, and beliefs came together for numerous reasons. Whether it was just a quick stop before making their way or staying a while to relax and enjoy the time away from the sea. Because of it, the island was almost constantly bustling with life, which kept things interesting for Catherine and the people that lived there. The shops that had popped up around town were filled with exotic new foods and trinkets, with new arrivals coming in at least every month or so. The docks were always welcoming newcomers – both pirates and marines alike – from all over the Grand Line, and the festivities were the some of the most memorable events Catherine had ever witnessed. It may not have been a popular location on the Grand Line per say, but it was hard to deny that it certainly felt like one.

As she stood there basking in the sunlight, Catherine's gaze suddenly moved to the sky, staring at the vast ocean of bright blue that had been dotted with a few clouds. Judging from the position of the sun, it was sometime in the afternoon. That was the only indication she had that said she had completed training for the day. That meant she had the rest of her day to do as she pleased, whether it was spending the day relaxing or taking a stroll through town to see if any new faces had arrived. The look in her eyes, however, showed that the time of day was the least of her concern. Instead of showing relief, they seemed somber; it was as if something was starting to bother her, and it was becoming evident on the outside.

Have five years really passed already? She thought to herself as she began to frown. In her mind, she found herself reliving a time she had not seen in far too long, a time where freedom was, quite literally, in the palm of her hand. The rules of the world seemed nonexistent in her mind, and adventures were had almost every day. While the environment around her remained the same as italways had, it did not deter her from exploring and discovering new things that she would have never known about before. Her dreams were so clear and present in her mind that she could almost grasp it, though, at the time, she was still far too young to consider her dreams anything but that. Nevertheless, she was never deterred from that, and the seemingly carefree lifestyle only added to the fond memories she had created.

She was, of course, referring to the memories she had created on her home island, the place where she was born and raised. The reality that five years had passed since she was able to see anyone or anything from there made her feel homesick.

"Catherine? You alright?" A voice called to her again, grabbing her attention immediately and breaking her chain of thought.

Violet looked toward the house to spot a burly man of around forty years standing at the door with his massive arms folded over his chest. He towered over Catherine's five foot five frame by almost a whole foot. His skin was tanned as if he had been working in the sun all his life, and it was evident from the scars marking his arms and chest that he had been through a lot in his life. His hair, messy yet seemingly well maintained, was dark in color, though the roots had long since started graying with time. His eyes were as black as coal, always appearing to have a menacing scowl no matter what he was feeling. They could stare down anyone, regardless of their size or rank, with a piercing gaze and send a shiver down the spine of even the toughest of men. His outfit was rather simple in design: a plain white t-shirt and jeans with steel-toed boots, which was the only thing that seemed to stand out other than his stare.

Despite the hulking figure of the man towering over her, Catherine merely smiled sweetly as she approached him. She had spent the last five years with him, so being fearful of a man she considered her guardian was a bit silly.

"Yes, Monroe," she answered his question. "I was just taking a quick break and relaxing before heading inside." Her smile grew in a reassuring manner. "I know Mallorie worries about me a lot, especially when I enter the house panting like I had just run a marathon, so I thought I would take some extra time to enjoy the weather."

Monroe's expression remained unchanged, yet Catherine could easily see the hint of concern in his eyes as he looked down at her.

"That's only 'cause ya got a tendency to overwork yerself more often than not," he explained. "She's got every right to be worried 'bout ya."

If any other teenager were to hear their parent or guardian speaking to them in the way Monroe talked to Catherine, there was no doubt that person would start to whine and groan about how they were just fine. They would try to act tough and make their parent believe that they knew what they were doing. In a way, they would try to prove themselves to be an adult in a rather childish manner. Catherine, while still a teenager herself, felt no need to resort to acting in such a manner. After all, Monroe had an excellent point behind his words as much as she hated to admit.

"I greatly appreciate the concern, Monroe," she told him with a gentle smile, "but I'm fine. I've become much more self-aware of that by now. I only train until I can feel myself growing closer to the point." She shrugged. "I mean, it's certainly a start in the right direction."

"Just 'cause yer more aware 'o that stuff doesn't mean it's good for ya," he pointed out, placing his hands on his hips as he did so. Catherine had a feeling he would say that, yet she said nothing. There was nothing to deny, after all. "Ya gotta rest often, or else yer gonna regret it later on." He rolled his shoulders, relieving any sort of tension that may have built up. "Trust me. I would know."

Catherine sighed at that, yet her smile remained present on her face.

"If it makes you and Mallorie feel better, then I'll do what I can," she reassured him, patting his shoulder lightly to assist in comforting him.

Monroe still kept his piercing stare on her, but judging from the silence, it gave away that he was taking her word for it. The response left Catherine pleased.

"Catherine! Monroe!" The same feminine voice from before called out to them, grabbing their attention instantly. "The food is going to get cold if you two stay out there any longer!"

"Ah!" Catherine exclaimed, a light dust of pink flushing her cheeks, as she looked past Monroe. "We'll be right there, Mallorie!" She looked back up at him and grinned cheekily. "We should be going. We wouldn't want her to waste any of that food. After all," she began to move past him, "I heard she spent all night preparing it!" Before she could take another step toward the house, Monroe suddenly placed a large hand on Catherine's shoulder, causing her to stop and look at him again. She noticed the hint of concern in his eyes becoming more visible, greatly contradicting the menacing look. Her brows furrowed with concern, tilted her head slightly to one side, and worried asked, "Is something bothering you, Monroe?"

"How are ya feelin'?" He immediately responded with a question of his own, surprising Catherine briefly. When no response came, his eyes shifted. "I'm askin' 'cause, when I came to get ya, you were lookin' up at the sky in a weird way. Like somethin' was botherin' ya or somethin' like that." His grip tightened a bit, and his eyes narrowed. It was out of genuine concern rather than anger or annoyance. "It'll bother me if somethin's buggin' ya, so I just wanna be sure yer okay."

Hearing him say those words caused Catherine to smile as a blush crept onto her cheeks. She felt appreciative of the fact that Monroe felt so concerned for her well-being, reminding her of the fact that he was genuinely kind at heart despite his outward appearance. It was one of the many reasons why she had grown to respect him as greatly as she did. It was also a reminder to her that there were people out there who, despite what they looked like on the outside, could be an entirely different person on the inside. They could come off as someone who was cruel and menacing on the outside, but they could have the biggest heart in the world on the inside. To put it simply, and as Mallorie enjoyed putting it, it was that mentality that proved the point that Monroe, despite his broadish figure, was more like a teddy bear than anything else.

"Don't worry, Monroe," Cather assured him, placing a hand against his. She did not realize that her gaze was faltering a bit. "I was just...I was just looking back on some precious memories of the past."

Monroe raised a brow as he turned to face her, releasing her shoulder along the way.

"Precious memories?" He asked curiously.

"From the days before I met you and Mallorie," she went on to explain, looking back at him with a small smile. "I was looking back on the days I spent living freely, back when I had no worries other than keeping myself alive around dangerous animals." She could tell Monroe rolled his eyes, still unable to believe that a young girl had gone through things that a little should never endure. " Doing so just made me feel a bit homesick, especially after realizing that it's been five years since I had been there." Her smile appeared to grow a bit, and her cheeks suddenly began to burn a bright red. "I couldn't help but wonder how everyone is doing, especially...him."

"Him?"

"My...my best friend, of course."

Monroe grunted, earning a confused look from Catherine, before he immediately asked, "Ya mean that Monkey D. Luffy fellow that's been causin' trouble fer the Marines lately?"

Catherine, despite his words about her dear friend, could not hide the sudden growing shade of crimson on her cheeks as she glanced away, nibbling on her lower lip just a bit. The response came as no surprise for her, yet even after knowing what he would say, she still found herself oddly surprised. Monroe knew her well enough to understand who she was referring to without her having to mention anything about him. Being around him as long as she had seemed to give him that advantage, she noted, though it did make things easier on her part and avoid any long winded explanations.

After a moment, Catherine nodded, responding to Monroe's assumption in silence. It caused him to grunt again.

"I still find it hard to believe that you, a girl as sweet as the apple-blossoms, formed a friendship with a strange kid like him," he commented, earning a look from Catherine. "He's a helluva lot 'o trouble fer his own good, 'specially after all that he's done."

Catherine's gaze faltered to the floor a bit as she explained, "W-well, considering that we grew up and spent so much time together, it's rather difficult to say he isn't my friend just because he's a pirate." She started scratching her cheek with an index finger bashfully. "Just because he lives a life that many people disagree with doesn't mean he's a bad person."

"Hmph," Monroe huffed, yet he said nothing more on the matter.

"Besides," Catherine could not help but continue, smiling warmly as her eyes became distant, "I made a promise to him many years ago that I would help him achieve his dream of becoming King of the Pirates. I swore that I become strong enough to protect him, to stand by his side until the very end." Her expression turned somber, yet her smile remained evident on her lips. "Whatever that end may be."

Monroe stared at her for another moment, noting the expression she had on, before heaving a small sigh.

Seeing just how serious she was about her friendship with "Straw Hat" Luffy left him speechless. As much as he would have liked to say something about the boy, he knew too far too well about how adamant Catherine was about him. Without an ounce of hesitation, she would be quick to stand by his side and defend his name to the bitter end. To his surprise, Catherine was never stubborn or rude when people made negative comments about Luffy; he was considered a criminal, after all, and most criminals were looked down upon by almost everyone. She defended him diligently, and rather than use force or anger to convince others of what she knew, she tried to show the people that questioned his motives the other side of the coin. After all, she knew him better than anyone else, and it was a side of him she had always known. It was never her intention to convince them that Luffy was a good guy, - even if, in her own eyes, he was – but rather to help people see him in a manner that they never considered, a light they had never seen him in before. In her mind, Luffy was a prime example of an honest and genuinely kind person who was overshadowed by the so-called "evil" that was the pirate way of life.

After looking at Catherine for another moment, Monroe placed his hand atop her head and ruffled her hair a bit, which earned him a look from the blue haired maiden. Sure, the idea was rather silly and borderline insane to consider, and Monroe was quick to note and accept that fact. Why would anyone in their right mind try to defend a pirate like Luffy? After everything that he caused with the Marines thus far, it would be considered a treasonous thought to have. Catherine, however, did not seem to mind. Whether it was because she was his friend and she greatly cared about him or if it was because she had a better understanding of Luffy's position than Monroe did was beyond his knowledge.

After all, in some ways, the two were not so different from one another, so it was a bit easier for him to understand why Catherine wished to defend Luffy's name as adamantly as she had.

"C'mon, Catherine," he finally spoke as he turned away from her, removing his hand from her head, and began walking toward the house. "Before ya start gettin' all morbid on me...and before Mallorie has a fit again, let's go inside and eat."

Catherine watched him leave for a moment before giggling. However, before she followed him inside, her smile fell a bit, and her gaze returned to the sky. The somber look she had moments ago returned as a thought crossed her mind: how was she supposed to keep her promise to Luffy if they had been separated for all these years? Five years was a considerable length of time to be separated from one another, and yet she still found herself holding onto those vows as if they were the last piece she had of him, the final piece she had of the life they once spent together so many years ago. Then again, since she had left without even telling him where she was going or why she was leaving, she was unsure if meeting with him face to face was the best. She wondered if those promises still had any meaning to them after what she had done to him. How was he supposed to feel when his best friend, someone he genuinely cared about, up and left him without a word or even saying goodbye?

It was that question that caused her to sigh before she walked into the house, fearing that the answer would not come as soon as she would have liked it.