A/N: So, this is the next chapter. It was actually pretty hard to write and is more of a filler than anything, but it was a needed part of the story. Hoping to get the next chapter up sooner!
"Alright, Luffy. I'll bite. What are we going to do with them?" Zolo asked, glancing over his shoulder to where his captain was crouched. Luffy was smoothing out a portion of the dirt mound, only to put a small, round stone on the ground.
There was a stone on the top of each mound of dirt, spread out over the course of the docks. Markers for the fallen, in place of a cross or an actual gravestone. Just enough so that the people of Kishimaru Island would now what had happened there, while they slept through the storm, and ignored the ships that landed on their docks.
It had taken them most of the day, but the grave Luffy was currently marking was the last one.
Without getting up, Luffy shuffled about until he was facing his first-mate. He tilted his head slightly, looking up at him. "What do you mean do with them?"
"You know exactly what I mean." grunted Zolo, frowning. He was in no mood to play games with his captain. Not here, on this mist-cloaked island where the forsaken just seemed to gather.
"Oh. Yeah, I guess I do." said Luffy, rocking back onto the heels of his feet. The freshly turned dirt shifts beneath his sandles, though it doesn't make much of a difference at this point. His feet are caked with the dark, slightly damp sand - which Nami will probably yell at him over when they get back to the ship.
Of course, his feet aren't all that's dirty. Luffy, much like Zolo, has the wet sand everywhere. It's shoved up under the blunt tips of his nails, smeared under his eyes and up his arms, coating the fabric of his vest and clinging to the brim of his hat. It looked more like he had been rolling in the mud then digging in it. Zolo was just as dirty as the younger boy, though he stripped his shirt off near the beginning of the dig.
Every time the wind blew, sharp and cold, it carried the dirt they shoveled up with it. And, oh, the wind was still strong. The first storm may have passed the night before, but the island was still felling its effects. Left-over pockets of wind were crashing into the island, mixing with smaller storm clouds and forming larger, more dangerous storms. Pulling and pushing at the fog still coating the island, sending tendrils of grey in all directions, hindering the two pirates work.
Earlier, Zolo had heard Nami and Robin talking. Said that there was another storm coming, worse then the first.
Which was why, while the other members of their crew busied themselves with helping Chopper and prepping the Sunny for another voyage, even before being patched from the last one, he had found himself out on the dock, digging shallow graves with his captain. The depth had been Sanji's idea, though Zolo was loathe to admit that. Just far enough into the ground so the crows couldn't get at them, so that no one could plunder their bodies. Close enough to the surface that, when the rains hit, the loosely packed dirt would be washed away and the bodies carried out to sea.
The closest thing to a sailor's death that they would be getting, unfortunately.
It was this loose but wet dirt that Luffy was trailing one hand through, fingers leaving abstract designs in the top soil. He wasn't frowning, but the usual smile was still gone from his face. Warm brown eyes took in the stone he had just set - and beyond there, to the eerily empty port and the worn town that he could just barely make out through all of the smog.
"Well, they can't stay here Right?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Luffy tilted his head at the swordsman anyway. Waited until he made out a grunt to continue. "No other ships either. So no doctors - and they need some help. So...I guess they're just gonna come with us for a while!"
"All of them?" asked Zolo, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't surprised exactly, but the idea of hauling all those extra people around wasn't an appealing one. "We could just drop them all off at the town. That's what this place is here for, you know."
A lapse of silence, as Luffy looked back at the vague image of a village. Even from that far away, with the weather as bleak as it was and the heavy fog, he could make out the outline of buildings. Worn, broken down, some on the verge of collapsing - though that much was hidden by distance.
Ichimaru Island was a strange place. People with nothing else to live for just seemed to gather there. People with too many doubts to survive in the real world but too little courage to just end their misery. With nothing left to hold on to or look foreward toward. With only exhaustion in their hearts, nothing else and nothing more.
Astrologists and scientists, they tried to wave it off as nothing more than chance. But the pirates who passed by it, the unlucky few forced to dock there for the night, they knew better. The land itself was alive - or maybe it was the fog that should be called an entity? That's what brought forth the feeling of despair to all who saw it. Bringing out every insecurity and fear and doubt in their minds, dredging it all to the surface and holding it there until it had a new tenant for its sad, decrepit village.
So far, Luffy was the only one that hadn't mentioned it. The constant doubt that had sprung up in everyone's mind, asking them if leaving the island was really worth it. Personally, Zolo thought it was because the younger boy just didn't feel it. And that was partly true. Luffy didn't feel doubt when it came to leaving the island, but there was still something about it that he didn't like. Something that he couldn't name.
"No." he finally said, hand leaving the dirt to curl around the brim of his hat instead. "I think they should just come with us. The Buggy Pirates are cool, Zolo! Besides, I wanna know where Buggy went."
And, like that, it was decided.
Zolo gave another grunt, pulling the shovel out of where its spade had been shoved into the ground and turning towards their ship. The deck was almost invisible, there was so much fog centered on it, clinging to the wood and the warmth and the trust, but he could make out a few lamps on the deck.
"Fine." he muttered, slinging the handle of the shovel over his shoulder. "Let's get back to the ship then. Damn fog's drivin' me nuts."
