Disclaimer, setting, and more author's notes and warnings: see Chapter 1. Nitpicks, general concrit and other feedback are always very welcome!

Note that this is a Divergence AU, where events happened differently at Marineford (but not Sabaõdy). For more (spoilery) details on this, see, again, chapter 1.

Absence. Chapter Nine

-x-

Luffy looked down at the crew from the crow's nest, shivering despite the hot weather. He saw them wandering around, looking over their packs, picking things up and locking the doors of the ship; talking in low tones and in small gestures. Franky was already standing over by the helm where he could activate the Docking System. They were going to cross over in that small ship, going back and forth several times until they'd all made land. Sometimes one of them would look up towards him, then turn away again.

They probably weren't sure if he was going to come with them or not.

He knew they thought he didn't understand. That it was no use trying to explain to him.

But Luffy did understand. He understood very well that there was a great, gaping abyss inside him, something he'd tried hard for days, weeks, ages not to fall into, scrambling and running. He knew that the darkness had come from this island, and that if he got ashore, he probably wouldn't be able to escape it.

And he also understood that his crewmates were trying to push him into that very abyss. He didn't understand why they would want to do that; but maybe the why didn't even matter much, in the end. Not when they wouldn't listen to him.

A captain that nobody listened to wasn't really a captain at all. Maybe he wasn't even anyone.

He didn't have to go ashore with the others, though. They couldn't make him, could they? He could stay on board and protect the ship. It wasn't right to leave Sunny unguarded...

There was a deep hole right there, when he thought we need to protect the ship; with an acid taste in his mouth, he shook his head violently, trying to force his mind back.

He hugged his shaking knees and bit his knuckles until the darkness pulled back, but not all the way back - it was still closer than before. His stomach was burning - maybe he would have to throw up soon.

They were all going to the island and he couldn't stop them. Even if he could have knocked all of them out at once (and he probably wouldn't be able to), that wouldn't make them change their minds once they woke up. And maybe they would all fall into that same dark abyss and then he'd be all alone, like on Sabaody; and nothing would matter anymore.

Shifting position and stretching out his legs, his toe pushed against a hard, flat object lying in a cobwebbed corner. Luffy took up whatever it was and tilted his head as he looked at it. He blinked, then squatted down on the floor to see if there were any more things of the same kind around, but couldn't find any.

It's mine. I should have this.

He got up again without bothering to dust himself off and shoved the object deep into his pocket. Then he opened the hatch and started to climb down.

-x-x-x-

The sudden movement made Nami look up, then flinch as Luffy landed on the deck not far from where she was standing.

She had just finished adjusting her pack and was waiting with the others on the lawn deck for Franky to bring out the Mini-Merry. They'd take turns crossing over in it.

Everyone carried one backpack, with standard provisions for exploring an island. Quite possibly they wouldn't have much of an appetite over there; but they had no idea how long it would all take and Sanji had felt it was best to be careful. For the same reason, Brook and Franky were carrying blankets as well, just in case they couldn't get back to the ship before dark. In addition, there was a white sheet rolled up tightly in Zoro's pack, Nami knew; and both Sanji and Franky carried a spade strapped to their packs.

Though she wasn't sure if Franky was coming. He had been the most outwardly restless of them during these morning hours, walking up and down, back and forth all over the ship, now and then setting up what he claimed were traps to attack any intruder; now and then disabling them again, muttering about flaws. He would put down his pack and even start to unpack it, then abruptly shoulder it again before disappearing into the depths of the ship, checking up and tinkering and who-knew-what... he'd also seemed a lot clumsier than normal, tripping and bumping into things. Nerves, maybe? Nami wanted him to go with the rest of them, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Sunny alone either. So she had no solution to offer. The more important thing was getting Luffy to come along with them. But would he?

Her fingers were trembling again, and yet she didn't feel as nervous as she'd thought she'd be. Not really numb, either. Just - a little off, a little floating on the surface of things, half in the daze of the dream she'd had woken up from this morning, though she could barely remember it now. Only a persistent sense of there being someone very, very close by who kept reaching for her; who kept calling her, but so quietly it could hardly be heard at all.

And she had a feeling she'd tried to reach back, in the dream, groping and fumbling in a fuzzy white light. She'd stood in a narrow white hallway somewhere she didn't recognise. Had there been secret passages behind the walls, mystery panels she hadn't known how to open?

She ought to have known: she was the mapmaker. She was accountable. The hand she couldn't reach, the voice she could neither hear clearly nor manage to answer - they had both been entirely, utterly close. Too close.

But anyway. She shook her head trying to clear it, still watching Luffy warily. At that moment, Franky turned the lever, cogs and wheels rumbled within the ship's Docking System and the big hatch opened below, Mini-Merry sliding out onto the waves.

"Don't go there," said Luffy tensely, immediately stopping all movement in the crew. He was standing ramrod straight and looking at all of them intensely. "Stay here. Don't GO there, guys!" he repeated, trembling now.

Nami exchanged looks with the others, opened her mouth to speak, but Sanji was faster.

"We have to, Luffy," he said, not unkindly, bending down to take up his pack, then walked over to the railing. "It's time."

"Right," said Nami, and the others assented, or at least nodded.

Luffy turned around, his back to them. He crossed his arms. "Are you going to leave Sunny alone?" he demanded, his voice sounding both harsh and brittle.

"Ah... Well... That's..." Nami started, then fell silent, not knowing what to say. Yes, it did make sense for one or two of them to stay behind and guard the ship... but it didn't feel right. They should all come ashore, she felt very clearly.

"I could stay..." Robin offered now.

Franky waved this aside with a wide gesture, then swooped his hand towards the Mini-Merry. "Nah. If anyone should stay, it should be me. Not you, babe." He sat down on the top of the staircase leading from the helm towards lawn deck, scratching his chest and looking at his captain.

"I already thought about it, Strawhat," he continued. "This way and that, all through the morning. And you know what? Each time I'd decided I'd stay, I'd freaking trip over something, or bump into things, or bust up stuff... I swear, half the time it felt like the ship was tripping me up on purpose!" He sighed, stretched his long mecha arms and then patted the wood next to him. "I don't think Sunny wants me to stay," he said simply. "Think she wants me to go over to the island with the rest of us. But if you say the word, I'll stay."

Luffy looked up at Franky, his face unreadable.

Chopper cleared his throat, then said cautiously, "Luffy... what do you want to do? Do you want Franky to stay here? Or... d-do you want to stay here and guard the ship? Instead of coming with us?" He leaned his head to the side, watching Luffy carefully and taking a small step towards the railing.

Luffy gave him a wild, hard, oddly stiff look, but first said nothing as he walked over to the railing to look at Mini-Merry. Standing there for half a minute, his face softened somewhat, not into warmth but to uncertainty.

He drew one hand along the railing, slowly back and forth.

"I... if you guys are gonna..." he started, then closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, several times. Then he stopped, opened his eyes again, and looked down at the Mini-Merry a second time wonderingly.

A moment later, he pulled down his hat and backed away from the railing. "I'm not going in that one," he mumbled. "I can't." Raising his voice, he went on to say, "I'll see you over there." Then he stretched both his arms wide until he'd grabbed two trees over on the other side, before slingshotting himself over.

Well. All right then, thought Nami.

The rest of the crew divided themselves into groups to cross back and forth on Mini-Merry. When everyone had come ashore, they dragged the small boat up on land and hid her behind lots of rubble and tree branches. Nami looked at the simplified map she had over the island and pointed out the mountain where the poneglyphs were supposed to be, in case they needed a reminder of the lay of the land from this vantage point.

From there, they'd walk the same way they'd come, last time, to the small bay on the opposite side of the island where they'd made land then.

That's where they would start searching in earnest.

"You were right." Luffy's voice was toneless, his face stiff and immobile. He wasn't looking at anybody.

"Eh? Mr Luffy?" said Brook, spinning around and putting his skull to the side questioningly. The others all paused, listening closely.

"You guys were right. This is just a normal island. Nothing weird here."

"Er... I'm not quite sure that's what we were saying," said Brook diffidently, scratching his afro.

"Let's go find the poneglyphs," Luffy went on tersely, and marched off. The others glanced at each other, then took deep breaths and followed.

They walked through the wreckage of the Marine camp, neither hurrying nor with particular caution, past the heaps of torn-up canvas and poles showing where there'd been tents before, the burned-down remains of officer cabins, the trenches and cooking holes, the pitiful remnants of fences… They noted, but took care not to look too closely at the big pile to the right of ashes and bones, where someone had strewn flowers weeks ago, long withered since.

It must have been there they had burned the bodies of their fallen comrades, those former Marines who were now travelling the perilous sea with the Strawhats' log pose. And perhaps they had cremated the officers they'd rebelled against as well, for the small group didn't encounter any stray corpses in Marine uniforms anywhere as they traversed the camp grounds.

The pirates walked on without stopping to search for anything of value in the piles of destruction, though some of them filed away the thought that they might have to do so later, if they could stomach it. But not now.

They found the path that the ex-Marines had told Nami about, a well-trodden one that lead into the densely grown forests of the island, out of sight from the ocean. It would take them towards the mountain where the poneglyphs were, in the island's centre.

Luffy looked back, still with little expression, his face pale and gaunt, then he turned around and started walking. And the Strawhat pirates followed him into the jungle, all eight of them.

-x-

Luffy only registers the woods around him vaguely, as shadowy things of little consequence. For every other step he sees somewhere else -

He's in the forest of his childhood, on the Corbo mountain - first running alone, trying and failing to keep up with Ace; then running and fighting and hunting with Ace and Sabo, doing everything together; then, for years, running or walking with Ace, or alone, until he couldn't get lost in the depth of those woods if he wanted to.

And then he's in in some other forest, running in a great hurry among the many trees, trying to find the right place before the bad guys will land - what bad guys? He's not sure, but they seem to have something to do with the man from his dream the other night, the bastard with shiny black hair and glasses. Time is running out, and no matter how much he wants to think this forest is the same as the first, he knows it can't be. Otherwise he wouldn't get lost. But it should be the same, it should be, I want it to be a part of him still insists - but he can feel Going Merry looking at him and he can't turn it away any longer: it's not the same forest, not the same island. He knows Merry can't have come from his home island. And now he has the feeling there are a bunch of kids watching him from behind the trees, always hiding when he turns his gaze to them.

He clenches his teeth and breathes in heavily, registering the smells around him. Those smells make him sick, he hates this place - but being sick that way is better, still better than these images in his head, the hole in his chest that just keeps hurting -

Trembling, he digs his nails into his fists and keeps walking.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Chopper walks with the others, trotting in Walk Point right behind Nami and Luffy, trying to pay vigorous attention to his surroundings with eyes, ears and nose. But he finds himself looking down on the ground a lot.

He wonders when the storm of emotions and memories will hit him for real. So far, inside him there's just the same mix of emotions he's felt on the ship since last night: nervous anticipation, fear, hope and determination, with the dull dark hole of ihe's gone/i underneath it all. Maybe the hot air and the sharp smells of the plants and the soil all around him have increased his nervousness a bit, but that's the only difference.

But... Something is different about the island, though. It takes several minutes of walking before he realises it.

It's still warm and stuffy, but not to the same extent it had been; and the smells, though still strong, aren't as overpowering as he remembers. He breathes in carefully. Yes, there is a certain tinge of fresh coolness in the air, compared to how it was before. He supposes it's due to the weather shifting to autumn, even if it seems a little early for that on a hot Summer Island. But that's the Grand Line for you. Nami would probably know - but Chopper isn't going to bother her for a small question like that.

Whatever the cause is, he feels grateful for the change. Every little bit helps, and if the air had still been as hot and oppressive as last time, it would have made it that much harder to walk this path.

'...We can't just let him lie there.' Nami's words from the crew council echo in his mind, but so does Robin's bleak statement, 'There may be nothing left to bury'. He shivers, clenching his teeth. He's here because he thinks Nami's right, because they have to at least try to find the remains, because it's what he would have wanted to do - but still...

I don't want us to find anything. I don't want to know for sure.

Except... except he does, too. He knows damn well they couldn't have kept sailing the way they were. And not only because of Luffy's mind-wall. They needed to return here: they can't go on not knowing, not having even tried to learn the truth.

He can smell spices in the air, and more promisingly, herbs he can recognise as medicine ingredients. But that smell also feels heavy, now, reminding him of their first trek on the island. Back then, Chopper had been happy and excited, stopping to gather some of them up, and looking forward to pick more on the walk back. Instead they'd been ambushed.

This time, he realises glumly, unless they'll need to get away from here in a hurry again,

he should try to gather as many herbs as he can, later. It would be very irresponsible not to. They could serve to make medicine his crewmates might need.

Tears well up again without warning, obscuring the path. He transforms into Brain Point to wipe them off, not looking at anyone, trying to keep his sniffling down. Well, the herb picking ought to be done. And he will do it. But he doesn't think he can do it gladly.

He can picture Nami, Sanji and Robin saying to him, He'd want you to gather them, you're the doctor. And he'd want you to be happy about it. And they'd be right, Chopper knows. But the warmth of their smiles wouldn't reach the tired sadness of their eyes, as they'd say it. And it's not enough, thinking of it that way. It just isn't. It doesn't help.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Despite the heat, despite the heavy smells of spices in the damp air, despite the buzzing insects and the occasional large animal lumbering across their path, or the birds that zoom past above them, Sanji feels like this isn't quite real. The feeling has grown stronger since they made land here, but it's been there the whole day, ever since he awoke at dawn after a troubled sleep of confusing, fumbling dreams.

Are they really walking here now, the whole (but not whole) crew? Is the wild overgrown forest truly all around them; or is it just a delusion?

Or, he thinks twenty paces later, maybe this is what's real, them walking here like this, and it's the weeks they've been sailing since they left this place that's a lie. They haven't really been sailing all that time with just eight people; they didn't actually commit a kind of low-key mutiny; and they don't really have a captain who forgets so much and thinks he's two people now - right?

-x-x-

There is, perhaps, a certain relief in getting here, finally. And to be away from the ship with its burden of memories. But that relief is still like a tiny puddle of water in the midst of a thousand acres of arid moorland. It does very little.

Still, Zoro thinks, this isn't so hard. All he has to do is put one foot in front of the other, walking steadily on the rough forest path. To pay close attention to your crewmates and the environment, the uneven ground and the overcast sky, the dense woods and marshes all around them - to watch closely, and to listen even closer, listen with more than just your ears. Be ready for anything.

The trick is to pay attention enough to always stay in the now - in this walk, on this day. To only see the trees and the leaves and the sky all around them - not the ones he saw back then. To only hear the trampling of eight people on a forest path, the iwhoosh/i of a sudden wind; the far-off call of a bird; the croak of a toad in the ditch as he walks past, splashing it; the steps of his crewmates and his captain's breathing, growing more ragged almost with every step. And to not hear the cries and clangs and explosions of a great battle all around him.

The noises he's trying to push away isn't from just the one battle here, either. The sounds in his head are from all the other battles they'd been through as well, from a small backwater island in East Blue all the way here to the New World. So many times they'd nearly all been lost...

Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad, if he let those echoes wash over him. It takes energy to hold them back, and he's so damned tired...

No. He can't allow himself that. He can't afford the great weight pushing him down now, the luxury of pain. People are depending on him. Luffy's not just oblivious anymore; he's getting ever closer to a breakdown. Nami can't carry it all by herself. Zoro has to be steady and hold on.

Besides, he thinks, a sudden sharp, dark twist like a sword into his stomach, it's not like he deserves to be the one to let go and collapse. He failed. He'd been busy with his own battle back then, not seeing where he should be, not realising what was going on. He should have been able to stop it from happening. Should have. What the hell was it worth becoming the greatest swordsman in the world, if you can't even protect your friends when they need it?

He swallows, realises it's not just Luffy's breathing he can hear this time, but his own as well.

Never mind. Stop thinking. Just go. They'll get there eventually. They will.

-x-

For Luffy, the ground doesn't seem as solid anymore, it's like there are spots in it that aren't earth or stone but cloud, cloud that's mostly strong enough to walk on but could turn loose any second, something you drown in like water – or else, just letting him fall, many many thousands of meters down, and he can see the gaps below him, the abyss of air and sky and a sea that will smash him, if he falls in.

Then Merry is there again in his head, flying, flying in a storm, the sail filling out, Nami calling out, everyone happy -

But there are gaps in the path beneath his feet and he can't get to that other place anymore -

It's not like this is hell–

A sharp flash of pain. And he stumbles, grabbing at a big thorn bush to support himself , the thorns pricking him with a sting he hardly feels.

Someone stops by his side. It's Chopper in Heavy Point, he sees, though his view is fuzzy at first.

"Luffy?" Chopper sounds worried, reaching out with a steadying arm. "Are you all right?"

The support is needed for a second or two, but once he's regained his balance, he pushes Chopper away, though not roughly.

"Don't call me that," he mumbles, then realises that wasn't something he should have said out loud. He quickly grins widely and takes a tentative step forward, then another. "S-sorry, Chopper! Never mind, I'm all right!" he asserts. "Everything's fine!" Smiling feels like slogging through hard mud. But he manages to get going again, straightening up and walking again on the forest path in this place he hates. Chopper is mumbling something. Luffy tries hard not to listen.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Damn it. There's just nothing dangerous happening.

Franky knows he shouldn't be surprised. Hadn't he said as much to Chopper the other day on the ship that it wouldn't be physical danger that was the real threat, here? The faces of his crewmates all mirror his apprehensions, too, as everyone is careful to give Luffy his space, to match their pace to his increasingly slow and faltering step, to only occasionally glance over at his pale, sweaty face from the corner of their eyes – Luffy wasn't in the lead any more – but mostly keeping their eyes at the uneven ground they're walking on.

The only great beasts they've seen so far are a snappish giant turtle and a large mamba, the latter swimming in a slow, placid stream crossing the path. Nothing else. No human enemies, no convenient interruptions...

It's excruciating. Not the least because nobody's isaying/i anything, the silence enveloping them in a tense, itchy way that weighs him down. That lets his thoughts be too loud instead, his memories far too pushy and vivid.

After a while it's almost as if he's alone on the path, lost in this green world, his gaze blank and unfocused. His body's walking here, but his mind is far away, back in the islands they've sailed through, back in the fights they've had, back in the streets and canals at home... A part of him realises he's hiding, but it's hard not to, here. His own breath starts to become heavier, just like Strawhat's, and his hands curl into tight fists on their own.

I don't wanna be here. And yet his stomach curls even more at the thought of returning to the ship the same way they came, of continuing to sail with that emptiness, that broken, crippled feeling wearing them down. It must have been hard for Sunny, too, he thinks suddenly. No wonder it felt like Sunny was pushing him to go ashore, earlier.

The path is crossed by another creek. This one is wider and faster than the earlier one, but there are rocks in the middle they can jump on. Many of the trees nearby have been smashed up, even torn apart. There are bullets and torn-off pieces of cloth and metal armour on the ground, but no bodies. Sanji walks down to the edge of the creek and starts filling up some canteens with water.

"Just in case," he mutters. "Though I guess we should boil it first... Hm." He puts his head to the side and eyes the water below him with a thoughtful frown, takes a deep breath, and takes a sip from it.

"Huh. It seems pretty fresh, actually," he judges. "A lot better than any of the water around here did, last time."

Franky shrugs as he crouches down beside Eyebrow-bro and helps him fill the canteen, pausing to drink from it himself. The taste isn't bad, just a little muddy. "Well, it's a mountain stream, right? They're usually cool. Still," he concedes, "air does seem fresher too, now that you say it." He scratches his stomach pensively. "Less stuffy and all."

Sanji nods, with that one distant look back on his face - the one they all seem to get, every now and then. Then he and Franky get back up and cross the creek rock by rock, the others waiting for them further ahead.

A flock of huge tropical birds suddenly rises from a clump of small trees next to the path. The birds pass over them, crying out something that almost but not quite sounds like words. The circle the group three times before flying away, their eerie cries lingering for some time. Franky has a feeling like he might be drowning.

He shakes his head wildly and brings himself out of it for the moment. But somehow, that only hurts all the more.

The ground has started to slope upwards now, the path getting windier. It seems like they've reached the mountains in the centre.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As Robin is walking, she can't help but notice hundreds of little things on and around their trail; all the scratches and tracks, bits of clothes and wood, the many small and large signs of not one great battle but two, the latter right after the first. Even if she didn't know this already, she would have been able to conclude as much.

Using extra eyes for caution, she also sees a couple of unburied bodies in the bushes she doesn't tell the crew about, after she's confirmed they're all Marines. She notes animal tracks and bones, snake skins and anthills; old notches high up in trees signalling that people have been here years earlier. She even sees sunken stones and a bit of old timber that looks like ancient house foundations, something she'd normally find quite tantalising.

Not now, however. Robin notices all these things, because she can't turn that part of her brain off. But she wishes she could. She wishes she could walk in blissful ignorance, unmarred by this knowledge that won't shut up; unsurrounded by clues of the past, of the whispering stories. She wishes this forest was nameless, nowhere; that she was no-one, walking here.

She had a dream this night a little like that - everything fuzzy and half-unformed, with no clear outlines. But there, something seemed to want to push her out of it, something that wasn't part of herself. It felt anxious and unsettling. Like being seen when you didn't want to be.

Robin walks on, glancing at her crewmates occasionally, wishing she and they could all be nameless.

-x-

There still seems to be gaping holes in the path, but Luffy manages to walk on, willing his best to pretend they're not there, that he won't fall in, and so far he hasn't. He crosses the creek with little trouble and starts to walk up the slope.

There's a part of him that's mad at himself, because he's not alert as he should be and this is a bad place and he needs to be ready to fight for his crew, even if they've all gone crazy... But that part is too overshadowed now, it keeps retreating further and further back. Even the path and the woods around him in this dark place are retreating, fading, fading –

Right hand deep in his pocket, he's clutching the small, hard round thing he found in the crow's next so hard it digs into his skin. He bites his dry lips, swallowing. Now he knows what kind of dial it is.

Suddenly he pictures a dial like this right in front of his face, too late to stop the punch – an Impact Dial, like the fat priest used on Sky Island. But he's not in the clouds now, he's somewhere on the ground where it's dark outside and a heavy wind is blowing from sea and the air smells bad of sulphur, gas and gunpowder. His fist feels heavier and more unwilling to fight than he can ever remember. And now – now his own punch comes back to him, throwing him back. But wasn't he the one who caught and released it? Why else would he have felt that this dial belonged to him, back in the crow's nest?

It doesn't fit, doesn't fit, doesn't fit –

-x-x-x-

Got to go on. Nami holds the ClimaTact hard but barely notices it, her hand sweaty on its familiar wooden surface. Her hair is unkempt and, like her face and shoulders, stained with berry juice from these surrounding bushes leaning over into the path, but she doesn't feel like she has time to tidy it.

In her head is the memorised map of the island she's drawn from the ex-Marines' information, which she's now trying to match to reality as well as she can. The path is narrower here, and hasn't started to go steadily uphill yet. Got to go on. Got to keep everyone moving. Can't stop.

A part of her is prodding at her, but weakly, in a small voice, Weren't you supposed to stop doing that, once you got here? We've arrived. Weren't you supposed to let go?

The thought makes her mind pause, just a bit, as she stops on the road to dig out a pebble in her shoe. To let go, huh? To stop trying to take charge, now that they've reached the island, stop risking alienating Luffy further; to step back and relax. To –

She presses her lips together, suddenly dizzy in the mottled sunlight. No! No, better stay like this, even with sweat running down her hunched shoulders, with a churning knot in her stomach, with the guilt of mutiny increasing. It isn't time yet. She doesn't dare let go.

She casts an uneasy glance at Luffy, who's picked up his pace again but keeps his head at an angle where she can't see most of his face.

What a hypocrite I am.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This tropical island with its bright colours, warm sunlight, fascinating (if sometimes startling) wildlife, where he walks together with his eight living, breathing crewmates is very far in all details from that old drifting ghost ship in the deep, damp fogs of the Florian Triangle. Yet inside Brook's empty skull he hears and feels those old desolate winds again, making him shiver with their moaning.

But back then, he would so often try to fill the ghostly silent with desperate song and music, learning to play all the instruments on the ship that he didn't already.

Now, he's not alone, blessedly, and he shies away from breaking this silence that feels so tense and unreal. He makes an effort to keep his unsure humming in his head only. But keeping quiet like that makes him jittery and unbalanced, stepping wrong on the forest path and getting tangled into roots ever so often. Brook is so very used to humming when he doesn't know what to say.

In his mind he tries to go back to the attempted melody of a few nights ago, the lullaby-like one that he has yet to capture fully. Last night he thought he had it, hearing a lovely song reach him in his dream, though he never found out who sang it. But it faded away when he woke up.

He keeps seeing his old crew around him, remembering when they'd explored deserted jungle islands like this one. But he knows it's just his mind playing tricks with him. They are all at peace now.

"A song of silence," he mumbles to himself, not noticing he says it out loud. He pictures a violin and bow made of air, of nothingness. "That's what I should make..." The not-ghosts of his old crew seem to smile at him.

-x-x-x-

They reached the top of the path by the mountain pass in the noon hour. It was close to the highest spot on the island, a scant forty-fifty metres of a lonely peak towering above them. They all stopped for a few minutes to have a drink of water and to take in the view of the whole island from there. Not a bad-looking place from here, Nami thought, then felt guilty over the thought.

It wasn't hard to find their way down: the path just went on from there in a steep incline down a short grassy hill. This was almost where they'd been, before. They'd walked from the opposite direction on the spot currently below them. It was there they'd found the poneglyph rock, shortly before getting ambushed. In fact, one of the groups of Marines had come down the very path they were walking on right now.

On the way down, Luffy didn't seem to pay much attention to where he walked, stumbling momentarily. But he didn't fall, and his breathing was a little calmer now. As the ground evened out and the crew stepped off the path into the grass, he stopped and straightened up, a still but forlorn, indrawn figure.

"But... where is it?" Chopper said after a couple of moments. "I can't see the rock! Is this the wrong place after all?"

Nami frowned as well, walking over to where Chopper was standing. "I remember it being right here, too. Wait... what's this on the ground?" There were large tracks from something big dragged through the mud, going down behind a great oak lying prone, uprooted by the battle.

"It's here," said Robin calmly, popping up from behind Nami, which made Nami jump.

Robin walked past her to the other side of the oak, lifting a branch so Nami could see for herself some of the smooth grey surface of the rock, and the – to Nami – mysterious symbols written on it. "But it used to be over there," Robin went on. "It's been knocked over."

"What?" said Nami sharply. "Is it destroyed?"

Robin shook her head, smiling faintly. "They couldn't crack the stone's surface. It's close to unbreakable. So they blew up the regular layers of stone and earth at its base, instead. Just to make it a little harder to find and read, I guess."

"Huh. So much trouble to go to..." Nami trailed off. Of course, she did know that the World Government would rather have all poneglyphs destroyed, but still, she hadn't gotten the impression they would have had time for such shenanigans when they'd all been busy killing each other.

Robin stood back, dusting off her hands. "Perhaps they planned to have it buried in dirt, but events interfered..." She shrugged, then turned towards where Luffy was standing indifferently, raising her voice. "I found it."

"Oh. That's good, Robin," he answered mechanically, scuffing his foot on the ground.

Robin paused, then continued more slowly, in a very measured tone, "Captain. I would prefer to stay here by myself."

He gave her a wary look under the strawhat brim, but said nothing.

"Er, Robin, are you sure about that…" Nami began, her voice dwindling down when Robin met her gaze calmly, nodding once.

"I think it would be easier for me," Robin continued, looking back at Luffy. "Can you let me?"

Luffy looked at her quietly for several seconds, then shook his head. "I can't leave you here alone," he said firmly.

"But..."

"I'm not going to let you be here by yourself!" snapped Luffy.

There was pain in Robin's face for a fleeting moment, but then her composure returned, her features smoothing out into a mask. She turned away, crossed her arms, and said nothing.

Zoro, getting closer to where Nami was standing, was scanning their surroundings with an intent gaze.

"There's something moving around here," he said. "Or someone..."

Luffy looked over at him, at the forest around them, eyes narrowing. But then he said, "Sanji."

"Mmhm?" said Sanji from a fair bit away, hands deep in pockets.

"You can stay here with Robin, right?"

Sanji blinked, then smiled. "Oh of course! No problem!" He glanced over at Robin. "If it's not a problem for Robin-honey?"

He's so careful, thought Nami. So cautious. He wouldn't normally be that careful. But now, it's like we're all walking on glass...

Robin raised her eyebrows in an expression of mild surprise that was more pleased than not-pleased.

"That is acceptable," she murmured.

Normally this would have put a worshipful heart in Sanji's eye, but now he just smiled at her fondly. In a way, it was a welcome restraint, and yet it ached in Nami to see it.

Luffy just nodded. "Okay," he said simply. "You'll catch up with us later, then."

And he turned away and started walking again, his fists clenched against his sides.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Sanji watched as Luffy and the others walked away, down into the valley below and under the trees. He kept smoking his cigarette with forced slowness.

As the crew first passed out of earshot, and then out of sight, something changed for him. The cloud of unreality that had been there since this morning lifted and dissolved. The trees and rocks around him, the grass, moss and stone underneath weren't going anywhere; weren't just illusory backdrops.

They really were here, after all.

He turned towards the overturned poneglyph rock. "Guess we'd better get this out of the way," he said, waving at the branches of the fallen tree that covered it.

"You don't have to do that," said Robin quietly.

"It's fine," said Sanji, happy to help. He lifted one of the branches and tossed it away.

"Really, you don't have to, it's not necessary–" Robin said, but Sanji just bent down to pick up another branch; it was really no trouble for him.

"Sanji!" said Robin sharply. "Leave it alone!"

Sanji jumped in surprise, letting go of the branch. It fell on his foot.

"R-robin-honey...?" he asked uncertainly.

Robin had crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to look at them," she said bitterly. "The hateful things."

Sanji gaped at her.

Robin turned, taking a few steps away from there.

"R-Robin..." Sanji's voice was shaky, now. He was still staring at her in disbelief that he'd really heard her correctly.

After a measured pause, Robin said, her voice smoother and her face held away from him, "I understand that we would have sailed here anyway, even without those things." She waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder towards the poneglyphs. "We would still have gone exploring, would still have been ambushed." She was quiet for a moment. "And... well," her voice turned brisker, "we would also still be here again by now, I suppose. There would be one reason less to return, but in the end, we – we would still be at a loss for an alternative."

"I believe that, too," said Sanji quietly.

Robin's voice dropped low. "I understand all that." He heard her swallow, then she went on in a thicker voice, "I do understand it. But." She took a few more steps away, still keeping her back towards Sanji, holding herself by the elbows. "I simply loathe the things. That's all." There was a faint tremble in her tone.

But doesn't that mean you hate yourself? wondered Sanji. I thought you'd learned better, by now. That we'd taught you better.

But he couldn't say that. It would only put more of a burden on her. So would all the other useless lines his mind offered up – besides, he was sure she'd already considered the meaning in them all before.

Thus, he didn't say, What about Ohara's legacy?or, He'd hate to have you feel that way, you know or So why did you stop here by the stone, then?. Besides, when he reflected he thought he had the answer to the last one: probably so she wouldn't upset Luffy and the others by not examining the stone in front of them. But at least it was clear why she'd wanted to stay back alone.

Instead of saying any of those things, Sanji took a deep puff on his cigarette and blew out the smoke slowly, letting it form a big question mark.

"All right," he said slowly. "Shall we..." Then he stopped himself.

Robin turned back, looking composed again. "Hm? What?" she said.

Sanji sighed, rubbing his forehead with his thumb. "Never mind, Robin-honey. I mean, uh... I was going to ask if we should go catch up to the others, but..."

"You don't really want to, do you?" Robin put her head to one side, looking understanding. She had just sat down on the fallen tree, her back to the poneglyph rock, in the shade of the top of the mountain.

"...Do you?"

Silence, then a small shrug. "Well. We agreed to come here," she said quietly. "I suppose we shouldn't leave all the dirty work to the others." But she made no move to get up.

"Right," he mumbled, "right, that makes sense..." And yet he sat himself down in the grass. "In a moment." When his legs felt stronger. He hadn't realised until this moment how bone-deep tired he was, as if he hadn't slept for days – no, for weeks.

And then they were both quiet for several minutes, just sitting there. Sanji close his eyes and breathed in the cigarette, but also the tropical air.

"It smells better now, here," he observed. "The air is fresher."

"True," Robin agreed. "Another thing I noted is that the inland wildlife seems calmer."

"I suppose so..." said Sanji vaguely. "You know, Robin-honey," he went on impulsively, not really knowing where he was going, "if he was here right now, I bet he'd start telling you some ridiculous shitty story to amuse you with. And ask you what you thought about something completely irrelevant, maybe show off a new invention or something. Anything to distract you with. And I'm not sure but I think you would laugh."

"Yes," said Robin, her voice thicker than before, "I think I probably would." After a brief pause, she added in a whisper, "Eventually."

"Because..." Sanji, picking distractedly at straws of grass, wasn't deliberating now, but just saying his thoughts as they came to him. There was too much in his head and he was too tired to be careful. "Because that's his way. We all have our different ways. And he would do that, if he couldn't just badger you. " He heard the open pain creep into his voice, but went on regardless, "And all the time what he'd mean by that is that things aren't too bad, he knows you can sort it out, and he trusts you completely." No, he wasn't up for using the past tense right now, dammit.

"Yes..." Robin's voice sounded less distant by now. More wistful. "And if that didn't work, he'd go back to badgering me. Because dreams are important."

Sanji looked at her quickly. "They are," he said. She only nodded.

He slumped, looking down at the grass and the handful of flowers, at ladybirds and honey-bees, feeling his throat grow tighter. "They are..." he repeated, shivering in the hot sun. A sob slipped out, wouldn't be pushed down. He blinked furiously but his cheeks turned wet even so.

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his face on his sleeves. "A-anyway." What had he been going to say? "Anyway, that's not what I can do, but..."

But Robin said quickly, "Maybe I don't want to find out the Lost History so much anymore."

Sanji's eyebrows rose again, but looking over at her, he found he didn't feel as alarmed by that as he might have thought. Somehow he got a clear feeling she didn't really mean this part. She just needed to say it.

"Maybe I don't want to find All Blue," he replied. There was an odd relief in saying that, even though he knew he didn't truly mean it either. Mostly, at least.

Robin said, more slowly and thoughtfully, "Maybe we won't get to do either of those things, anyway. If our captain gives up on his own dream."

Sanji looked up at her sharply. "You think he'd do that?"

"He might well," said Robin, meeting his worried gaze steadily. "I don't consider it out of the question. Do you?"

Once he remembers. And it couldn't be long now - might already have happened, in the green jungle below them. Sanji swallowed. "Shit. He might just." That thought had ran through his mind before, truth be told. Staring at the ground, he swore a little more, under his breath. "Dammit. That would piss Longnose off so badly," he muttered bleakly.

"Sanji?"

"Yes, Robin?" he said, his voice a little softer again.

"There's someone here."

-x-

Are they going down to the ship again? Luffy doesn't ask, doesn't stop to reflect or look around, his feet just go on mechanically. This was the way we came.

He's not completely out of it or disoriented; he knows they came up on the other side of the mountain just now. But that... that was the wrong way, not the way they'd come before. Last time. And there's something in him that desperately wants this to be the only way they came. That they only dreamed they were sailing on after this island, that they've been here all this time - no, not all this time, that they're back in the same day and there never was an ambush, they weren't baited or betrayed, the island not a hostile place -

Nami's eyes turn up in his memory all dark and serious and not backing down. 'Why do you say it's a bad place? You're the one insisting everything was just fine, that really bad happened! You're not the one to talk!'.

Luffy swallowed. He was right and he was wrong and everything was wrong and he didn't know anything anymore, except the abyss opening in front of him was bigger and bigger and he couldn't outrun it anymore.

One foot before the other. One more. Ignore the stubborn feeling he's being watched by someone not in the crew, because every time he looks up, there's nothing there. Ignore all the smells and the gaps under his feet and everything, everything...

And then he hears again that voice, the one he wants to think is his own, Sometimes I need to not be protected, okay?

and, Once there's five of us, we'll head for the Grand Line!

and, ... stop looking like you're dead! Stop breaking our hearts here, dammit!

Then there's a warm arm across his shoulder, the sense of someone else close by smiling with him, and it could be anyone in the crew, or it could be Ace or a couple of other people, but he knows it isn't, it doesn't fit, just like the voice in the dream of the gray nowhere-place. He stops in his tracks, doesn't notice if his crewmates are curious or not; he tries wrapping his arms around himself, but no matter how he hard he tries to pretend, he can't have four arms. He just can't. Nor does he have another shoulder he can lean his own arm on, as it should be –

And now he's on the ground, grabbing hold of the grass and panting heavily.

"It's all right, it's all right, I'm here," he mumbles, sweat rolling down his temples. "I'm here, I'm here, everybody's here, it's fine, it's ALL RIGHT!" His voice rises in a yell. (But under him, he can feel the dry grass and soil shifting, spreading out, getting thinner, holes opening up – )

"Luffy."

"Hey, Luffy..."

That's Zoro and Chopper, he registers vaguely. Luffy's head shoots up again, and in the next second, he's jumped to his feet.

"It's all right," he repeats in a softer tone. His face is tense and set again, even whiter than before: his body is shaking. "Let's hurry up."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Sanji jumped to his feet, spun around and quickly moved in front of Robin, facing the direction she was looking in. He saw a man standing under the trees, right where the edge of the forest met the mountainside. Still too far to make out his features or even much of his clothing, the man was looking straight at them. Having lit a new cigarette, Sanji put his hands in his pockets and eyed the newcomer closely, waiting for him to make the first move.

The man started to walk towards them at a slow pace. After he'd taken a few steps, Sanji narrowed his eyes and felt something cold, hard and sharp in his stomach. It was the man's clothes, not his features - still too far away to see clearly - that had jostled his memory. Not that there was anything very distinct about the grey-brown skirt, the grey-green trousers, the high brown boots and the faded blue belt; no, it was only that precise combination as worn on a man of medium height and short black hair that did it.

It had only been a few weeks, after all.

One more step, and then Robin said, quietly but without any doubt in her voice, "It is that man."

That was all the catalyst Sanji needed. He was off and running, not even slowing down at the point where he recognised the other man clearly and undeniably, but reached him in four seconds. The shithead didn't even have time to cry out or try to shield himself before Sanji had kicked him clear across the field, right into an alder tree. The tree swayed back and forth from the impact. Sanji put out his cigarette with his fingers, then stalked over to the tree. The man – still conscious, as Sanji had intended, which was why he'd held back a lot while kicking – was groaning and trying to sit up as Sanji hauled him upright by the collar, pushing him towards the tree's trunk. Robin walked up towards the two of them at a calmer pace.

Because this was the man – skinny, sinewy, maybe in his late thirties or early forties; with lines in his face as if he'd been kicked around by life a lot – that they had picked up in a rowboat hours before they even made land here the first time. The one who'd talked to them about medicinal herbs and poneglyphs, mumbled vaguely about dangerous animals without giving any kind of details; who'd appeared friendly and grateful and somewhat piteous, yet stubborn and cheerful enough to seem likable. Who had completely failed to mention a special battalion of expendable Marine soldiers lying hidden on the island, not to mention the size, strength, quantity and mean intelligence of the local Seakings.

And who had also vanished completely from the moment they were ambushed.

"What the hell are you still doing here, asshole?" snarled Sanji

"I–I live here…" the man managed weakly, drawing for breath despite Sanji's firm grip.

"Live here? In this godforsaken place?" Disbelievingly, Sanji pressed his thumb a little harder on the man's throat. "Tch. Serves you right, if so. Why didn't you stay out of our sight then, worm? How fucking stupid are you?"

"L-look, I came out here," wheezed the other man, "I'm not armed or anything–" He twitched as if trying to put his arms up, not that he could when pinned against the tree like this. Nor could he move his legs; Robin had already bloomed hands to help keep him firmly in place.

"So what?" spat Sanji. "Is that supposed to impress me? What, you've got some new sob story you think you can fool us with?"

"N-no–" said the man weakly, avoiding his eyes. But moments later, as Robin reached the two of them, he raised his head and his voice surged, turning frantic, "L-look, you don't understand, I'd been enslaved for five years, away from my family my people; they told me I'd be free if only I'd do this one thing for them, and then, and then my wife was careless when the Marines got here and they captured her and my d-daughter, don't you see I had to? You c-could have been the nicest and most innocent people in the world and I'd still have deceived you and worse–"

"Indeed?" said Robin coolly. "And how do we know that's not just another sob story, Mr. Tomasso?"

The man flinched and looked abashed, but muttered sullenly, "Th-that's not my name. That was just the slave name I was given. My real name's Ananshio."

Sanji exploded, hoisting the man up again. "Do you really think we fucking care what your shitty name is? Slave or not, why the hell do you think we'd ever be fine seeing your shitty face around, anywhere?" He let go of the alleged Ananshio as his face turned red from air loss, not quite trusting his own restraint. Robin quickly bloomed more arms to keep the man largely immobilised.

"W-well, I..." the man wheezed, once he'd gotten air back in his lungs. "...I guess I should have realised you'd still be too upset to listen, but... I just really need to talk to you... You guys, you..."

"We're not fine talking to you," Sanji snapped. He took out his cigarette, breathed out smoke, then inhaled again. "In fact, we're hardly even fine letting you still breathe, so don't push your luck, shithead."

"Wait, Sanji." Robin held up a hand. Turned towards Ananshio, she said coldly, "The only reason we would ever listen to you is if you know where the body of our crewmate is. If you do know that, reach your point and tell us right now. If you don't, kindly disappear from here and leave us alone."

Sanji nodded in agreement.

Ananshio looked back and forth from one to the other wildly. "B-but–!" Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You pirates..." He looked up, more force in his voice now, his face more determined. "...You've made my family, my people, this whole island and the waters around it several great, great services. There's nothing I don't owe you for that. Nothing." He drew breath again. "But," he went on in a shaky voice. "Part of what I owe you is the truth. And. And you need to be told the truth, you should be told, even if you d-don't think you want to hear it, right now."

There was a long silence.

Then Sanji cleared his throat. "Your people... What do you mean by that?" he said, voice more controlled now.

"I'm a merman," Ananshio explained, sounding slightly calmer. "Well – half anyway, they're my mother's people, but that's where I grew up... There used to be a large tribe of us in these waters. Most have left now since the slave raids kept increasing and the Seakings grew hostile to us – those who weren't killed or abducted, that is. But a handful's still here, including my wife and daughter. They stayed here all these last five years when I was a slave, instead of going somewhere safer." After a short moment, he added quietly, "And now, more can come back."

Sanji and Robin exchanged one long glance, she probably thinking the same as he did. Nami had spoken to the two of them – and to nobody else, yet – about the rumours of the merfolk that used to live near this island.

"Mr. Ananshio," said Robin finally, the honorific still clearly indicating distance rather than respect, "are you saying you belong to the tribe of local merfolk renowned for their healing abilities?"

Ananshio nodded. He seemed to find it easier to meet her gaze now. "Yeah. I do. But not all of us are skilled in healing. I'm not. The slavers were pretty disappointed in me for that." He smiled crookedly, bitterly, for just an instant. Then he added, "My wife is, though."

Sanji exhaled softly, feeling dizzy. He could have done with a tree to lean on himself, right then.

He didn't know how to proceed, and was more than a little afraid to. Legendary healers. And yet... looking at Ananshio's demeanour up until now, did it really look like someone bearing good news? Unless... no, Sanji couldn't guess at what the merman might possibly be playing at.

But he said nothing as Ananshio began talking again, going back to the events of that terrible day. And neither did Robin, still and silent and achingly beautiful where she stood. She didn't look as dizzy as Sanji felt; she wasn't shaking like Ananshio or faintly trembling like Sanji, but there was a certain blankness in her eyes that might mean she wasn't sure how to go on, either. And she looked far paler than usual.

Very matter-of-factly, as if determined not to make more excuses for himself, Ananshio related how he'd slipped away right after the Marines had ambushed them, just as they had suspected. He'd run down to the Marine base to free his wife and daughter, but only his wife was there. Their eight-year-old daughter had been taken to a more secret place at the heart of the island: the one where the Commander had retreated later, only for Luffy to follow him and bring him down.

"That's when the whistle was shattered," said Ananshio, his voice suddenly breaking into a harsh whisper. Sanji glanced at him in surprise. Ananshio cleared his throat, stared at the grass by his feet and went on, "For this island, that was the most important thing you did. But the most important thing you did for my family was right after that." He licked his lips and swallowed. "That's when you captain and your sniper discovered my daughter in the chaos, her arms bound so she couldn't even hop on her tail. They didn't just untie her, they also carried her to the nearest creek and told her to swim away to where it was calm." Robin had stopped restraining his arms, and now the merman looked at his hands as he turned them over and over.

"I'm not entirely sure what the Marines had planned," he said softly, "but probably they'd planned to sell her off for a high price. She'd have spent the rest of her life as some human's pet, for them to gawk at."

Robin finally moved, taking a step closer to the other two and crossing her arms. "Fine," she said briskly, fixing Ananshio steadily. "We understand. You feel a debt of gratitude to some people you've wronged. Such things happen. But why is this important to us, pray tell?"

"Um, ah, w-well," stammered Ananshio, pressing himself against the tree as if trying to back away from Robin's gaze. "S-see, my wife had left for her secret hide-out, she's got a bad leg and isn't good at running, so... and I ran to the shore, the, the one where your ship was, and then as I came out of the forest I saw the King of Seakings there, and p-p-people fighting by the rock, just tiny figures, and – and in the midst of the bay there she was, my daughter..."

He stopped, too shrill-voiced and breathless to continue. Sanji looked at him grimly.

"Stop beating around the bush, shithead," he growled. "We don't need to hear all this shit. She was there, right, and he fell down and maybe he fell into the water, and – then what? Enough." He poked the merman in the chest, hard enough to leave a mark. "Giving people false hope is a shitty way to repay them for favours, bastard. If it was good news you'd already have fucking told us by now." He was snarling by now, his face contorted.

He forced the rest of the words out, feeling them fall like salt stones from his mouth, heavily, bitterly. "Either you guys got to him far too late, or – or something else happened that you don't want to tell us. Like. If he survived, but there's something wrong with his brain. Which. Is. It?"

"I-I-Ah..." Ananshio licked his lips, then grabbed his face in his hands and cried out, "It's just not that simple!"

Then Robin stepped past Sanji, loosened her grip on the merman and used her own two normal hands to grab him by the collar and lift him up from the ground, tall as she was. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was quite strong even without using her Devil Fruit power, Sanji thought admiringly. "I happen to agree," she said stiffly. "No more evasions and convoluted stories. It's clear now that you know one thing, at least. Where is he?"

The air went out of the merman. "I-uh– all right," he sighed, defeated. "You win, Nico Robin. I wanted to explain more, but... I'll take you two to where he is."

-x-

The crew go on downhill on the forest path, through the hot, verdant island. Bats and canaries pass them.

Luffy isn't there. Luffy's in Alabasta, on Whiskey Peak, in Cocoyashi village, on Skypiea, in Water 7... Everything glides past him, gliding too fast, shifting, running.

"...don't..." he mumbles. "It's... it's..." He wants to say, it's all right but he can't anymore, the words freeze on his tongue. "...it's what it is, but but, if I can be, if I can only be..." he babbles, not listening to himself, just needing to talk.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, I don't think so," he mumbles, and the thin thin veil remaining to him that lets him think he doesn't know why he's saying no, no, no is almost torn up, so very little left. The sky is a brilliant tropical blue above him. He can't even hide in gunsmoke...

And they walk.

-x-

He makes it as far as the third clearing. Then he stops. The others all freeze as well, silent behind him, around him.

His left arm starts trembling, trembling, until the whole of him is shivering uncontrollably.

"...it hurts..." he mumbles, clutching his hands, formed into fists to his chest and stomach. He bends over, soon crouching. "...Hurts..." Too much, too much, his face twisting in pain. "No, no, no, no, no..." he gasps weakly. Now he sinks onto the ground, slower this time, not getting up again. "No..." His fists are so tight they hurt, but it doesn't matter, that's not what's making it hard to breathe and see and think; that's a lighter kind of pain. He hugs his legs and starts rocking back and forth, letting out half-choking, half-keening wordless noises that's all he can say, all. No screams, no nothing, no words, just ragged breathing and the wordless, high-pitched, desperate sounds.

Everything, everything. All tumbling down on him, all the memories, images, sounds – too much, far too many, too varied and bright and shining and terrible – his head's not big enough to handle it, he can't take it, can't, can't...

But the road's run out for him. There's no place to hide anymore.

Because now he has a name to the gaping absence that's causing this vicious pain inside him. A name and a face and a voice and all these tumbling, charging memories filling him up,

finally much too strong to choke down or turn into something different.

It's Usopp.

Of course it is. Everything falls into place in his head, knocking down the false constructions, all fitting together horribly well.

It's Usopp, right there.

Who he met and fought along with and defeated that guy with the glasses for, who joined up with them so he could sail and laugh and fight and have fun; who loved the Going Merry even more than the rest of them did, who fought Luffy for real and left them and yet helped them when they were in grave trouble (and yes, it really was him with them all along; Luffy finally sees that now, feeling almost blinded by the razor-white clarity in his mind); who came back to be a part of them again. An amazing sniper, a clever inventor, a great friend; who could be very afraid and very brave and make up the best lies in the world and who knew there was no use to stuff if you weren't having fun. And like all his crewmates, he's infinitely important.

It's Usopp.

And Luffy didn't save him.

And now he's gone.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah…" he gasps, not able to get anything else out in between what feels like stabs to his chest.

He remembers now, all of it, the battle, the sea king, Nami's cry... the fall, the great wound, the blood. All of it.

He can't think of anything, anything, nothing. He realizes, now, why he didn't want to feel like Luffy anymore. The high-piercing noises he makes get even higher, louder, wilder; there are still no words. He can't say words.

There's movement behind him now, he registers dully. Then suddenly, Brook's voice.

"We don't all need to be here," says the musician in a low tone. "Mr Zoro, Miss Nami, you two stay here with him. The rest of us will wait for you down at the shore."

Luffy doesn't have the strength to object even if he wanted to. He doesn't even have strength left to think about it. Maybe he wants all of them gone. Maybe he needs all of them there. Maybe just Zoro and Nami is okay. He doesn't know. It doesn't matter. No.

He didn't save him.

And now he's gone.

-x-x-x-x-x-

- To be continued in the next chapter, "The Truth"