Hello, all! First off, I'd like to apologize for scaring anyone who received the message I sent out over a week ago stating I might go on hiatus. PMs for me are open again if you have any questions.
Now about this chapter, I decided on a few cameo appearances. First, I originally planned for Whitebeard to make an appearance, but after re-watching a certain arc I switched him out with another pirate, thinking it might be more interesting that way. Another thing: usually when I post a quote at the beginning of a new chapter, it's meant to refer to Dragon or Ruka. Not this time.
Please enjoy. And please, please, please review. Thank you everyone who favorited/followed, but what can I do to get a review out of you? Please tell me.
00000
A World of Difference
Chapter 24: A Dangerous Game
You say that I'm paranoid
But I'm pretty sure the world is out to get me
It's not like I make the choice
To let my mind stay so fucking messy.
—Heavy, Linkin Park
Ruka knew things were bad before she even came to.
Her whole body ached—like she'd been run over by a horse-drawn carriage and rolled over a bed hot coals. She was so thirsty, like she'd just walked through the desert. Her skin felt like the water in a tub, hot on top and cold underneath, and she felt both freezing and feverish. On top of all that, she was sweating bullets and just barely managed to force her eyes open.
A damp, earthy stench hung in the air. Where was she? A basement? A storm shelter?
She was in someone else's bed. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, and she had a face mask on as well as a cold rag laid across her forehead. Her hand was hanging over the edge from underneath the blanket. When she tried to move her arm, only her fingers twitched.
Dammit.
She noticed a couple of crates stacked in the one corner. In another, a young girl was slumped in a chair, snoozing, her hands clutched around some unfinished knitting. Knitting? Ruka thought only old grannies knit.
A half-melted tapered candle burned in a small glass dish, placed atop one of the bottom crates. The light was enough to illuminate that corner, the girl, and the stairs. It was so dark, Ruka couldn't have seen herself even if she could move.
Just blinking hurt. The events at Ohara flashed through her mind, and she turned her head to the wall as if to hide the shame.
It came back to her then. The red-haired woman with the paw pads and who she was targeting.
She groaned and grunted, the aggravation and physical agony evident in her unintelligible noises. Her fingers trembled and twitched as they curled inch-by-inch into a fist. Her wrist trembled as if her hand were about to fall off, and the shaking traveled up her arm. Her elbow barely cooperated, half-bending and unbending a dozen or so times before she managed to fold her arm to her chest, something she did with a muffled war cry that startled the sleeping girl awake.
"What—? What—?" She asked, getting to her feet and letting her knitting slip from shaking fingers.
Ruka threw her arm back out, and herself with it. She hit the bed and screamed for a solid minute. The pain of the impact was unlike anything she'd ever endured. Being cut in half by bullets would've been more bearable.
"Ah—! Ah!" The girl gasped, backing up as Ruka clawed the ground and pulled herself around, dragged herself towards the stairs. "No! No! Help!"
Ruka shot the girl a dirty look, and instantly regretted it. Somehow, she knew she wasn't being kept prisoner on purpose—she was badly injured, and her body was all but ordering her to stay still.
But she couldn't. Dragon, Bonnie, Kuma—they needed her. She needed to get back to them.
She had promises to keep. Goals to meet. She couldn't stay here.
"Oh, no you don't!" Said a voice from up the stairs. Feet rushed down stairs, closed in on her just as she managed to grab the bottom step.
She was lifted by strong arms—and screamed, again—roughly handled and carried back to bed, where she was carefully placed. Ruka fought back, reaching out with trembling arms to grab barely-visible persons as they tried, repeatedly, to get her under the blankets.
Frustrated, she punched one man in the nose. He fell back, hit the ground, covered blood-soaked cheeks with both hands.
"Damn, you!" The still standing one snapped, and pulled his fist back.
Ruka felt the muscles in her weakened legs clench. If she had to fight, so be it.
"No!" The girl said, rushing up behind the man to throw her arms around his waist. She looked up at him with great, big, baby cow eyes and silently pleaded.
The man's arm dropped with a "tsk," and he turned. He helped his friend up and together they climbed back up the stairs, with the girl watching them carefully.
"Are you alright?" She asked, turning those big, calf eyes on Ruka.
She was cute, this little girl. Cuter than Bonnie, when she was that size. A thousand times cuter than Ruka.
"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't move!" She said, kneeling to grip the blanket and rest her chin at the edge of the bed. "It's not just because of your wounds. There are some marines in town. They're going door to door, checking everywhere. Someone else on the island saw you fall out of the sky and reported it to them. This room is hidden, so they shouldn't find us as long as we're quiet."
They knew who she was and they were still harboring her? The marines were sure to kill everyone if they found out. Who were these people? Had Dragon contacted them somehow? Bribed them?
No. Dragon couldn't know where she was.
The cute little girl, with her big eyes, smiled so warmly Ruka was overwhelmed by maternal instincts.
"I'm Makino." She introduced herself, and reached out with gentle fingers to push Ruka's sweat-drenched bangs out of her face. "Don't worry, you're safe. There, there. There, there."
Ruka eased up, relaxing at her touch. She felt less maternal and more life a trusting child. She could trust Makino, or at least she thought she could.
"I can't leave this room either, right now." Makino said as she stood, took Ruka's rag from her forehead, and soaked it in water from a container. "They told me to watch you. Don't worry, they won't come barging down here. The door to this room is hidden under some barrels of rum. My guardians are handling the men who wanted to investigate our house. Even if they suspect something, they can't act without proof because they don't want to offend Garp-san."
That name…! That name was important, somehow, but… Oh, what was it? She couldn't think clearly…
Makino was combing her fingers through Ruka's hair, trying to get her to relax.
"It's okay, you can rest." She reassured her. "You should rest. You're safe, Ruka."
Ruka drifted off to sleep. She could hear his voice in her head, repeating Makino's words. She could feel his hand in hers, even though it was impossible.
She slept.
00000
Seventy-two Hours After Ohara's Destruction
Akame Port City, West Blue
Ignoring his thoughts on the overly-exciting events of the last three days, Dragon's downcast eyes watched the stairs as his booted feet climbed them two at a time. It was dimly lit by the waning sunlight leaking through the cracked walls.
Their rendezvous point was an old hotel in the slums of Akame Port City, an island at the southernmost point of West Blue. It was a decrepit old place that served as lodging, refuge, financial support and restocking source to most of the West Blue's worst rogues. Dragon had visited many times in the past, as had most of his former CP0 colleagues. This island was like a giant mouse trap. Pirates and fugitives came here to win a fortune at the casinos, or to have their ships repaired, or to rest up from whatever most recent battle had wiped out half their men and maimed the survivors. The World Government could have destroyed it at any time, except the idea of having all their worst enemies fleeing to the same place made them almost happy.
There was always the possibility that they would predict he would come here and come looking for him. But more likely, they would be searching for him in East Blue. According to the calls he'd wiretapped in the past few days, his father was headed there on vacation.
He passed two older men, both burly and bulky, smoking thick cigars where they were huddled together in a corner. Dragon's eyes, grim, tired, and glazed over from the effects of depersonalization, circled up and took in the sight of the two strangers.
Bright, wicked grins pulled their cheeks up into fat, happy, greedy lumps. One chewed up his still smoking cigar, and gulped it down. The other crumpled it in one fist.
Dragon kept them in mind, all his senses gathering to create a sort of pull, or arrow, aimed at the men. The pull became a stabbing sensation in his belly, but Dragon ignored it. He turned his back on them and travelled up the stairs.
They were shaking. As soon as he took his eyes off them, they both started shaking so badly the floor vibrated.
Dragon came to another landing after twelve more steps, and circled around to the next flight, where he could see a wall of closed doors waiting for him at the top.
As soon as he was out of their sight, his hand came up to clench his chest. This was strange.
He was having trouble controlling his haki. It was pouring from him naturally, like a flood of shallow water. Too weak to render anyone unconsciousness, but enough to turn anyone standing too close into a trembling wreck.
Quit acting like I'm dead! An irritable, female voice seemed to say. We don't have time for your angst, Dragon! You got things to do!
Dragon smiled quietly despite himself. If Ruka were here with him, she'd probably say something like that. And she would be right. There was too much on the line for him to lose his self-control now.
He pulled his haki in, kept the energy tucked and bound in a tight little ball in the bottom of his stomach close to his back and let it gather there. It was a neat little trick. But something told him he was going to need a cushion in haki stored up for when the time came.
He climbed the rest of the stairs with a clear head. There was no more point in imagining where Ruka was, or what was happening to her, when all he could really do was guess and wait. His best guess was his only hope, and it was a possibility he'd arrived at mere hours after Ohara's destruction.
He'd decided seconds into his grief that Ruka had to be alive. It was a hope, nothing more. He'd confirmed it after sneaking back onto the destroyed island with the search parties. Most of the underground shelters had caved in, and were found empty of any people or remains. The ashes of the tree of knowledge held a pile of charred skeletons—the bones of the scholars—and the lakebed contained copious amounts of soaked books. They went over the rest of the island with a fined tooth comb, so to speak, but no other remains were found. Divers inspected the waters, and discovered the empty of anything to suggest survivors had made it out.
When Dragon despaired, he called the old psychic Granny on Parties Island using the red transponder snail Vegapunk had entrusted to them. With the white and red transponder together, he was able to contact the one person who had confirmed what he'd only hoped: both Ruka and Robin were still alive. Robin was still in West Blue, hiding. But Ruka was in East Blue.
Granny's ability had shifted, she said, to where she could see others beside just Ruka and Dragon. She could catch glimpses of people they'd interacted with. More importantly, Ruka was in darkness, and psychics couldn't see the deceased.
After that, Dragon had needed an explanation. How could Ruka be in East Blue? It was too far to reach in three days, and she wouldn't have gone willingly. Granny had said Ruka had flown there, but she didn't know how.
Dragon had a theory though. Not the best theory, but generally when something that was logically impossible happened, it was almost always the result of a devil fruit.
So someone had attacked Ruka, just as Dragon was attacked. Someone with devil fruit powers, who'd sent her flying to East Blue.
She wasn't safe.
She wasn't anywhere nearby.
Where was she, exactly? Was she safe, fed, healed, and whole? Would she send him a message, somehow, to let him know she was okay?
He just wanted to know she was okay.
It wasn't as if he couldn't think for himself. He had his own conscience. But if Ruka wasn't nearby, he might get desperate and slip and stoop to irredeemable methods. He might lose sight of what was important and not even notice.
At least Bonnie. He needed to somehow manage Bonnie, at least until he could meet up with Ruka again. Bonnie would never yield to Dragon's judgement, but her sister's presence kept the lonely, bitter, youthful woman who was half his ally, and half his reason for sleeping with one eye open, somewhat tolerable.
She should be a decent human and try being tolerable on her own for once.
He blinked and noticed, at last, that he'd been standing at the top of the stairs for too long.
So much for a clear head. He needed to keep that in check, too.
"Dragon."
The voice of his friend, like gravity, pulled his attention to an open door halfway down the hall. Kuma was hunched over, leaning out and eyeing him with equal parts concern and sympathy. Was Ruka's absence enough for him to discern the situation? Or was it written all over his face?
"Kuma." Dragon said in response, nodding politely for his friend to duck back into the room so he could enter.
Kuma pulled his head in and, still leaning down, walked back into the room. Dragon followed him in, saw him sit cross-legged in an empty corner.
Dragon swept his gaze over the room. Two small beds, shoved to either side of the room and adorned with blankets that looked like burlap sacks sewed together and pillows that were stained with old mildew. Mold grew along the ceiling and in the corners. Rats scuttled in the walls, roaches crawled over the sticky floor. One chair occupied the other empty corner, one of its legs having broken off so that it now leaned on its weak side.
Dragon noted all of this with nonchalance. The room's appearance was irrelevant, because they wouldn't be staying long.
He cast his gaze on a bigger problem.
Bonnie Read was seated on the bed, her ankles cross and legs raised, long toenails piercing weak plaster to hold her legs up. Stiff arms were crossed so tight over her chest even Dragon wouldn't have been able to pry them apart. Proud head held high with scrappy fringe thrown over closed, impatient eyes with chin jutting upwards in the ultimate façade of "don't care."
Dragon faced her, sighing a little through his nose. Kuma kept perfectly still, silent, and braced for impact.
This was going to be difficult no matter how it started.
Bonnie's little chin dropped with enough attitude to even make the ever-casual Kuma's features twitch in loathing, which they did.
Her sharp eyes met his and he tried to keep his face blank, but telling.
"Where's Netty?" She demanded, her tone making it perfectly clear she didn't give a crud about him.
He didn't look away from her, didn't breathe or move or show any hint of the overwhelming guilt eating him alive or the brain-numbing tornado of Ruka-focused questions occupying his mind. But he didn't need to show or do anything.
Bonnie fell out of her false posing, sitting bolt upright with eyes that went bright, sharp, and alarmed in 0.1 seconds. In 0.2 seconds, she was in the air, coming at him with teeth and nails. A wild cat with a bright pink mane.
Dragon kicked her in the stomach, and she hit the wall hard enough to send cracks spider-webbing up to the ceiling. She slid down to the bed, doubled over in pain. Kuma and Dragon ignored her and began talking.
"Are you alright?" Kuma asked him, going with the obvious question.
Dragon wasn't sure what he meant by "alright," but he was present and accounted for, unlike Ruka. He nodded, trying to keep his thoughts present and off the subject of his missing wife.
"It took me longer than it should have." He admitted, guarded and embarrassed. "But I had to stick around for the following search and seizure."
"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE HER BEHIND?!" Bonnie demanded from where she was holding her stomach with one arm and keeping herself up with the other.
Dragon rolled his eyes at her and shot her a look of icy wrath.
"Ruka is still alive." He snapped.
Bonnie leapt out at him again. "LIAR!"
He didn't have the patience for Bonnie Read right now. He needed to find Ruka, so he was moving, breathing, and—he twisted and threw his arm out, back-hand smacking Bonnie to and through the front wall, so she landed in a pile of wood out in the empty hall—fighting.
"Do you have to do that?" Kuma asked, gesturing with an open-palm to the hole and cracks in the walls. "The manager won't be pleased. This room wasn't easy to get, you know."
"I need you to go down to the harbor." Dragon said, ignoring Kuma's comment. "Look for a ship captain, and negotiate safe passage over reverse mountain into East Blue for two. Tell them we're able to pay whatever they want, so long as we leave before the day's out."
"Only two?" Kuma asked.
"Yes." Dragon said, just as Bonnie threw the door open. She braced her arm against it as blood trailed from her scalp down her face and shoulders. Dragon pointed at her. "This one's staying behind."
"OH, HELL NO!" Bonnie screamed, launching herself at him once more.
Dragon's hand lashed out and snagged her throat, fingers curling over her thin neck in a way that was tight without harming any of the muscles or bones.
"Why the East Blue?" Kuma asked as Bonnie swung her arms and kicked both feet, spitting and snarling like some wild animal.
"Just do it and quickly. We don't have time for any more dramatics." Dragon ordered, tightening his grip at the last word.
"I don't think I should leave you alone with this." Kuma said, staring pointedly at Bonnie.
"Just go." Dragon commanded quietly, meeting Bonnie's eyes. "I need a word with her."
Bonnie wrapped her arms and legs around his arm and twisted her body this way and that, apparently attempting to dislocate his shoulder.
"As you wish." Kuma said agreeably, unfolding his legs and getting to his feet.
As soon as he was gone, Dragon swung his arm and threw Bonnie back on the bed. She landed with a dull fwump and wasted no time in circling around, grabbing a long split of wood that came from the broken wall, and getting to her feet. She stood on the mattress and glowered down at him, giving him the same exact look Ruka had given the Gorosei in Mariejois.
"Knock it off. There's no way someone like you could ever kill me." Dragon stated matter-of-factly.
"Why don't you let me try? Then we'll see!" Bonnie shrieked, leaning over so she was on eye-level with him.
For all that Bonnie was murderously livid, Dragon was calm and still. Outwardly.
"Quit making such a show of it then." Dragon challenged, no longer caring to get along with her. "You just want an excuse to attack me. Go ahead, if you're so eager. It won't make Flint Rackham any less dead or Ruka any less missing."
That was the wrong thing to say. Bonnie clutched the wooden splint and brought it down on him, aiming for his eye. Dragon deliberately released a small, but powerful, burst of haki. It hit Bonnie like a hammer, and she turned pale as her legs gave out. The wooden splint clattered to the ground.
"I want to you ask something." Dragon said, deliberate and threatening. "And you're going to drop the theatrics and answer me honestly, or else I will leave you here and not come back. Am I being clear?"
Bonnie, dazed and frightened to the point that silent tears were falling from withdrawn eyes, nodded quietly.
"On Ohara, right when my one and only chance to get to Nico Robin and Nico Olvia presented itself, someone got in my way. Someone who holds some sort of grudge against me. Do you know him?"
Bonnie shuddered, each little strand of bright pink hair dancing. She shook her head no.
"Really?" Dragon tilted his head skeptically.
Bonnie nodded fervently.
Dragon's teeth locked together, keeping the aggravated scream that had been building up inside him since he lost Ruka inside where it belonged.
He had done a lot of thinking since he met that man. That stranger, who hated Dragon so much he stood right in the target of a buster call just for a chance to fight him. And in all his thinking, Dragon had concluded that he knew that man from somewhere.
It wasn't the same thing he'd felt when he saw Nico Robin. With her, it felt like de ja vu, but backwards. This time it was like a silent alarm thrumming in his skull. He had seen that stranger elsewhere, under very bad circumstances, and some part of him remembered. An unclear, unconscious part of him knew that man from somewhere.
When it dawned on him, it felt like he'd lost his footing and fallen off some cliff. It was so obvious—he should've realized it sooner. He had lived among scum for almost three decades, and the only time he'd ever left their company was when they had work for him to do. The most frequent assignment were assassinations.
And the only people they'd sent him to kill were good people.
In most cases, he'd been sent after the head of only one person at a time. So their friends and loved ones were all left behind to mourn them.
Dragon hadn't always been the elite assassin the tenryuubito had coveted. He had started out sloppy, messy, easily spotted and identified. Anyone could've hidden nearby and watched him… Perhaps a child or an elder, or a coward.
His new enemy was a witness, or a survivor, or both. Someone who'd been close to one of Dragon's victims and now sought vengeance. It was only a hypothesis, but he couldn't think of any other way to explain what had happened.
Just the possibility that it was true had been enough to drag him down into thick, smothering despair.
When the possibility occurred to him that Bonnie could've had hired that man to kill him, he'd felt both relieved and enraged. Rage for Ruka, at the thought of how it would feel for her to be put in such a situation where her own sister could become her enemy. Relief because that meant he didn't have to answer for what he'd done in the past.
But of course Bonnie hadn't hired him. Why would she? She hated Dragon, of course, but not enough to endanger Ruka. Dragon had known the truth before he'd even asked. It had all been there, in her eyes, in those moments where, just after Flint's death, Bonnie had done nothing but tend to the catatonic Ruka who could feel only grief and hollow despair.
Dragon, always aware of his own body language, kept his back straight and shoulders up only because Bonnie was slowly recovering from the shock of his haki. He regretted using it against her.
"I'm sorry." He apologized, painfully sincere.
Bonnie's head popped up, face bright with surprise. Whether he was apologizing for losing Ruka, or leading Flint to his death, or using his haki on her, neither of them really knew.
They were spared from mulling it over too long. Kuma walked in the room, then, holding a small stack of papers in his hand that he hadn't left with and gave Dragon a small, jesting smile. It was so uncharacteristic Dragon laughed through his nose a little.
"I take it you found us a ride?" He asked, flashing a little smirk.
"Yes. Miraculously enough, it's a large, sturdy ship." Kuma said, smiling fully. "A pirate ship."
"Oh, really?" Dragon said, little chuckle tacked to the end of his words.
"You're not complaining?"
"Why should I? We're notorious rogues, too, aren't we?"
"True." Kuma agreed, holding the papers out to Dragon. "But you might complain about this, a little."
Dragon saw the top portion of the papers were all stamped with the word WANTED, in big, capital letters. Bounties.
He took them from Kuma, turned them over in his hands, and took in the first face. Then checked the second and third, faces, too.
"Huh." He said, eyes widening in shock.
"As soon as I told them you'd pay anything for the trip, they agreed readily." Kuma explained, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dragon folded up the bounties and put them away in his cloak. He combed loose fringe back with his fingers and tried to think carefully.
"This might be complicated." He warned.
"Complicated how?" Kuma asked, clueless.
"Did you tell him who exactly wanted a ride?" Dragon asked, uncertainty bringing his hand back to rub his neck.
"No." Kuma answered matter-of-factly, before his voice turned over with concern: "Should I have?"
"Well, let's just say he might not be happy to see me." Dragon said, carefully.
Come to think of it, Dragon didn't have a single memory of that person ever being happy. And it was very likely he would throw Dragon and Kuma off or announce their presence to the whole island, and leave without giving anyone a ride anywhere.
But they didn't have to time to overthink things. Ruka could be in danger.
Kuma nodded, understanding. Then Dragon turned to Bonnie, who sat cross-legged now, clutching her knees and keeping her head bowed.
"He and I are leaving now." Dragon told her gently. "We're going to find Ruka. Probably. But, even if I'm wrong and she's not there, she'll come back here to find us. So, you're going to wait here, and behave, and tell her everything. Understand?"
Bonnie trembled where she sat.
Dragon took that as a yes.
He reached into his cloak and took out a thick envelope, opened it, and removed a few hundred berries. He dropped them in her lap.
"That should be enough for three weeks' stay." Dragon said, closing the envelope and tucking it away safely. "If we're not back by then, it means this location has been compromised. In which case, meet us at the twin capes."
He waited for her to move, or twitch, or respond. But she was silent as the stars. So Dragon and Kuma left, with Kuma giving her a rather nasty scowl. Dragon made a note of it, mentally, and felt some of the uneasiness leave his heart.
00000
Dragon stood side-by-side with Kuma, pinching the top of his hood to keep it from being blown off by the warm winds. They stood together on a pirate ship, which was semi-large and not too flashy, and the hull rocking in the windblown waves.
Overhead, a first quarter moon glowed in a periwinkle blue sky, laid out under a loose splash of stars. Akame Port was aglow with shop lights, resembling a galaxy in the dark. The streets were still crowded with indecent humans, all going about doing indecent things.
Dragon tried to focus on avoiding the eight pairs of eyes.
Lined up in front of them were eight pirates, including the captain. They were a weird bunch. Quite a few of them met or overcame Kuma's great height, something Dragon found astonishing. A lot of them wore sunglasses, too, even though it was night time.
One was coyly dressed in a pinstriped suit, a cigar hanging out of his mouth and his hair sleeked back.
The man beside him was muscular, with pointed shoulders. He was clad in armor, but gave off a sort of anti-climactic vibe that made Dragon feel like chuckling.
The next man had an oversized chunk of pancake glued to his cheek. He had the feel of a veteran fighter, though, and Dragon made a mental note of him in the back of his mind.
Perhaps the most bizarre person was the huge man with long strings of snot hanging from his nose. He kept laughing, seemingly at nothing. Repulsive.
Another man, the one who stood closest to his captain, had a long face and a wide, toothy smile. Rather than being just huge, he was tall, and hung familiarly over his captain by keeping his arm on the man's shoulder casually. Dragon suspected he was the right hand.
Perhaps the oldest and most bizarre person was an old, wrinkly bald man wearing spandex. Like a few of the other members, he looked like an idiot.
But Dragon knew the captain better than to assume anyone on this ship was a weakling.
As for the captain, well, it had been a long time since Dragon had seen him in person, and his appearance had changed from that depicted in the two-year-old wanted poster. He too, was wearing sunglasses except in his case, it was to look more intimidating. He'd told Dragon himself, a long time ago.
His blonde hair was cropped short, and he was flamboyantly dressed in a light-pink suit with a pink feather boa thrown over his shoulders. He wore pointed shoes, like a woman, but in his case it was to make his kicks more deadly, another piece of information he'd shared with Dragon before.
He smirked at Dragon now, surrounded by his strange new comrades. Dragon wanted to put his guard up, but if he did the pirates would sense it and attack en masse. He could've handled that, but then he'd have no way of going to the East.
The captain laughed. "I was wondering who wanted to go to East Blue so badly. Who knew it was you, of all people. I'd heard you gotten away from them."
He sounded extraordinarily pleased to see Dragon. Surprise. Dragon had been under the impression that this man hated him.
"It's good to see you," Doflamingo greeted as Dragon lowered his hand, lifted his head, and met his eyes, "Shiroryuu."
00000
After Doflamingo confirmed Dragon's identity, they moved things inside. The other members of his crew were left out on the deck save for Diamante, who was wriggling his fingers in the air as he cackled away at the "notion" of Dragon's existence, as he so put it. Kuma was ordered by both Doffy and Dragon to stay put.
"To think there was someone who knew you when you were a Tenryuubito." Diamante said as he fell back to sit on a thick, glossy couch. He crossed his legs and propped his elbows up on the back edge of the sofa, laughing away.
Doflamingo stood, something Dragon took to be a gesture of respect. He picked a folded up newspaper off a metallic side table and waved it at Dragon.
"A lot of craziness has been going down!" He said gleefully, wide smirk rippling in a chuckle. "Some guy cut his legs off to escape prison… The most brilliant minds in the world burn to death in some tree… Trying to build trains on the ocean… And some moron tried to rescue his slave girlfriend and got dragged off to Mariejois himself!"
Doffy threw the newspaper back on the table and approached Dragon, who regarded him with emotionless, dark eyes.
"But what impressed me the most," Doflamingo continued, clapping his hand onto Dragon's shoulder, "Was you."
Dragon blinked, patient and waiting.
"I remember how that moronic grandfather of mine used to covet you!" Doflamingo shouted, chuckling. "Always sending you out to dispose of the slaves I got bored of!"
Dragon's mouth tasted metallic and raw. This bastard hadn't changed a bit since he was a child, except that he had lost his Celestial Dragon status, his family, and had grown up to be a repulsive freedom-abusing world-wrecker.
"Still I'm surprised you have the nerve to show your face to me." Doflamino said, his smile falling into a frown which quickly twisted into an enraged scowl. The veins in Doflamino's forehead bulged, throbbing against his skull. He raised his hand, moving his fingers about like a puppeteer.
Dragon's pupils shrank, eyes catching the low light glinting off the strings crisscrossing around the narrow sitting room. None of them touched him, but he was inside two separate circles of strings.
His gaze flickered to Doffy's face, currently warped by some still-burning, old bitterness.
"After all… DIDN'T I ORDER YOU TO COME GET ME?!" Doflamingo snapped, smashing his forehead against Dragon's.
Blood trailed down both of their noses, but Dragon gave no impression he felt the pain.
Doflamingo had only ever been a spoiled, selfish monster. His family had only ever been good down to their very cores, even the small and clumsy Roci whom had had the bad habit of playing by the edge of the red line and whom Dragon had had to rescue over two-dozen times.
"You should've gotten my message!" Doflamingo shouted, clearly referring to the small note Dragon had received years back. A note written in soot, on a dusty piece of scrap paper, and tied to the leg of a falcon. "Why didn't you come to get us?!"
"I wasn't allowed to." Dragon replied in a monotone voice.
Doflamingo's teeth clacked together impatiently, obviously not accepting Dragon's excuse.
Dragon sighed. He couldn't afford to fight with Doffy here. He needed to be believed.
Dragon raised one arm, and Diamante sat straight up. Dragon slowed down, then reached for the end of his shirt and pulled it up to show a small, horribly scarred portion of his torso.
Doffy looked and recoiled in disgust. Diamante stared, as if appalled, and a bead of sweat trailed down his brow.
There on Dragon's torso, just above his hip bone, was a blue-and-purple spider web of scars, each one carefully carved by a rusted blade and soaked in salt and vinegar about a decade earlier.
"What's that from?" Doflamingo asked, lowering his gun and stepping away, his frown twitching.
"Your grandfather did it to me." Dragon admitted, letting his shirt fall. He didn't like to show anyone his scars. Only Ruka had seen that one before, and after her reaction he had done it best to keep it hidden. "Punishment for going after you."
"Why should I believe you?" Doflamingo challenged. "You always hated us."
"I do hate the tenryuubito." Dragon assured him in a voice like acid, which turned kind: "But your family was never anything but kind to me. Besides, your mother's illness wasn't anything that should have been fatal, going off the symptoms you described. She would have been fine if you'd been allowed to live somewhere more hygienic."
"So, you did get the message." Doflamingo stated. "And tried to come after us. That makes sense. You were pretty close to Rocinante, and you even let me follow you around the palace."
Only because I couldn't say anything to you without starting up a conversation that ended with you ordering some slave's execution.
"Where is he? Your brother." Dragon asked, recalling the tiny, quiet boy who'd always clung to his mother or father.
Doffy went quiet, and started shaking. Dragon was confused until Doffy flashed his trademark smirk, this one a thousand times more sickening and wicked than the rest.
"Him? He ran off!" He said, laughing. "Almost nine years ago, now. Disappeared after I shot our idiot father. Wouldn't look at me after I lopped off his idiotic head and took it to Mariejois!"
Dragon's expression turned somber. Heavy eyebrows knit over sympathizing eyes. Of course, Roci hadn't followed his monstrous brother. Those two brothers had been like oil and water from the moment they were born. Roci liked catching butterflies, and feeding birds, and picking flowers for his mother. Doffy liked tormenting slaves and throwing rocks at pigeons, and starting fires in the library.
Doflamingo misread Dragon's sympathy, assuming it was for him.
"Don't look at me like that, Aniki!" He snapped, dropping his string trap and going over to sit beside Diamante on the couch. He held both hands up, fingers splayed. "I went through a two-year learning experience, and realized the world is filled with arrogant humans who do whatever the hell they want. The gods, who are the tenryuubito, don't give two shits what happens to the rest of the world so long as they get to live out their lives in their stupid palace! I accepted it the minute they rejected me and sent me packing with my father's head! Roci couldn't adapt and got left behind, but I replaced my dead mother, idiot father, and long lost brother with my new family!
"You too, right?" Doffy pointed at Dragon. "You got your wish and escaped that place you always hated, and now you're going about trying to wreck the world!'
Dragon gave no indication he disagreed. I'm different from you, you repulsive brat. I want to change the world, not destroy it.
"Forget going to the East Blue and come with me!" Doflamingo offered with a touch or authority, and Dragon realized it was an order, not a suggestion. "We'll get revenge on those idiots up in that ridiculous Holy Land together, and then—"
"Not interested." Dragon interceded, closing his eyes and turning his back on Doffy. "If you're not going to give me a ride to East Blue I'll look for help elsewhere."
No sooner than when he took his first step did Diamante appear directly in front of him, his arm waving in front of him like it was a flag. It straightened out, now gleaming like metal, and he attempted to shove it at Dragon's face.
Dragon reacted instantaneously, hardening his entire body so it was completely sleek black all over, then pulled his fist back and threw it at Diamante's gleaming arm.
Strings came out of nowhere and wrapped around them both, snagging them into an uncomfortable stillness.
"Calm down, Diamante." Doffy ordered from his seat on the couch. Dragon couldn't see him, but could hear his fingers move up and down with joy. "I don't want to fight this guy. I want him to join us!"
Dragon and Diamante locked eyes with each other. Dragon wasn't in the best mood, and Diamante wasn't feeling very tolerable after hearing Dragon insult Doffy.
"How about this?" Doffy said playfully as he dropped his strings. "I'll take you over Reverse Mt., and drop you off at Logue Town. But on the way, I'll try and persuade you to join my crew. If you end up agreeing, you don't have to pay me anything. If you refuse, I'll take whatever you're willing to pay."
He got to his feet and walked over to Dragon, thumping him on the back like they were old friends, and coming to stand beside him and Diamante. He offered Dragon his hand.
"Deal?" He asked, though it was clear refusal of this offer would definitely lead to a fight.
Dragon studied Doffy with careful eyes.
Under no conditions ever will I work for the Celestial Dragons, ANY Celestial Dragon, ever again.
"Deal." He said, taking Doffy's hand.
And thus Dragon entered a very dangerous game.
00000
Mere moments before Doffy and Dragon's conversation…
Bonnie sat in the otherwise abandoned room, with both musty curtains drawn over the tiny window, their edges lined with the waning sunlight seeping through.
The darkness of the dusty room pressed in on her, stealing her breath away, leaving her with only bruised pride and unstable conviction. The envelope of blood money sat on the table, and seemed to watch her.
She sat at the edge of the bed, her feet pressed together over the revolting carpet. The soles of her feet were caked in dirt, soot, and dry skin. Gross.
At that thought, she lifted her hands, turned her palms up, and looked them over. Scarred, dirty hands with bloody knuckles and cracked nails. She flexed her fingers and turned her hands over repeatedly, eyeing both backs and palms. She dropped one hand and raised the other, combing nasty fingers through unwashed, greasy hair.
When did she become so… Lazy?
No… When did she start caring what she looked like?
The answer came to her instantly: when she was a little girl.
In girlhood, she had observed her sister with idolization and concern. Aside from a few scarce memories too unclear to matter, she didn't remember her mother. As a child, she had mistakenly believed her sister was her mom. It was Netty who made sure she was bathed, clothed, and fed. It was Netty who hid her in the small wardrobe when bad men came to dinner, until their mother told her to stop hiding Bonnie. It was Netty who defended her, and stole her away from the weak woman who was mother and didn't protect them when it mattered.
Netty turned a small underground cave into their home. When they were discovered there, Netty took them to the abandoned Ferris Wheel, climbed to the very top, and turned the highest ferry into their new home.
Netty chopped her hair off, wore clothes too big for her starved body, and ventured out into bars and clubs to steal food just so Bonnie wouldn't have to. When Bonnie figured it out, she made Netty teach her how to fight, and they started to go out together.
Bonnie was a natural beauty. That was what Netty always said. That was why she wanted to hide Bonnie from the eyes of the villagers, who milked the lives of beautiful women to the bone. But Netty was a beauty too. Where Bonnie stood tall with full curves and flamboyant pink hair, Netty was beautiful in a quieter way. It was she who was naturally beautiful, with her never-say-die attitude, and her pride, and her endless optimism when things got bad.
If their home was destroyed, or their food ran out, or there were too many marines in town, or anything else. If Bonnie was ever frightened, that was when Netty was strongest. Someone had to be strong, and it was always her.
When they lost their friend, Netty faltered. So did Bonnie. How could they not? It felt like everything was over. For the first time in a long time, they questioned why they were alive at all. Why had they been born into this era, that town? Why had they lost everything?
They got their vengeance. They laid siege to everyone in that ugly, greedy village. Right when they both thought it was done, game over, time to go, etc. he showed up.
"Flint." She uttered longingly.
Flint was too old for her. Too cool and casual and too much out of her league.
Like that was going to stop her. He was the first man she'd ever laid eyes on who didn't have some ulterior agenda, and the only one she would ever want. But Netty would've objected. Netty, who continued to masquerade as a boy even after leaving home. Bonnie didn't want to disappoint her sister, so she was careful, quiet, sneaky about it.
She just… She just wanted to prove Netty wrong. It wasn't weakness to be born as a girl. It wasn't a curse to be pretty, or to try so that people would notice. It wasn't dangerous to wear what you wanted, to look how you wanted to. It wasn't wrong to go after what you wanted, even if there were consequences.
And Bonnie got her wish. Netty found someone! A strong, wounded, still-fighting, someone. A man who was even more unhappy they were. And she chased after him, saved him, brought him to life.
At great cost.
If they had left him behind and sailed away, Netty wouldn't have stood for it. She would've left them and gone in on her own, tried to save him by herself, and died. Even if she hadn't gone after him, she wouldn't have lasted long. She could not have abandoned him anymore than Bonnie could've given up on Flint.
Bonnie understood all that. Understood it still. But when she sat by Flint's side, held his hand, and felt the warmth slowly leave it, she regretted everything. She hated herself for being a woman, for trying, for wishing and dreaming and fighting. If she had just agreed with Netty and given up, Flint would have lived. Dragon would have died. Everything would be as it should.
Even though she knew Dragon wasn't too blame, she hated him. Even though it was good Netty abandoned her male façade and started dressing like a girl, Bonnie hated herself. If she could just go back, do it over, she'd fix everything. She'd be the one to chop her hair off and live as a boy. Flint would never fall in love with her. They would never get on his ship. Dragon would stay in Mariejois where he belonged. And Netty would love only her, as she should.
It was those thoughts that stayed with her ever since Flint's limp, lifeless hand hit the bed. She stopped taking care of herself. Her hair turned into a mass of leprechaun knots. Her face was dirty, her skin lost its smoothness, her teeth started to rot.
She didn't care. Where was the point? The only man she'd ever loved was dead. It no longer mattered what she looked like, or what physical pain she suffered. And maybe Netty would notice what had happened to her, and abandon Dragon so she could take care of Bonnie. Just like old times.
When they went off to Ohara, Bonnie had wished for it with all her heart. Die, she'd shouted at Dragon's back in the distance, Burn to ashes. Disappear! Die!
But he'd returned. He had the devils luck, and the vitality of a cockroach. Annoying sonofabitch. He'd come back and Netty was who-knows-where. It felt like a sick joke, or some kind of karma. That karma would be on his side just pissed her off more.
"It should've been him instead." Bonnie spoke up with loathing. One tear after another trailed from her eyes, spanning the length of her cheeks, dripping away to splash against the floor. She sniffled, folded her hands over her heart, closed her eyes as more tears came. "Flint… Flint…!"
It was too much. She didn't know how to live in this world, where everything had turned upside down.
"I agree completely."
Bonnie raised her head, opened her eyes. There was someone else in the room with her now. A woman around her age with long red hair and quiet eyes. She sat across from Bonnie on the other bed, her head in her hands and her legs crossed.
Bonnie dried her eyes, didn't stand. She didn't care much if she was killed anymore.
"Where'd you come from?" She asked on a whim.
The redhaired woman raised one hand, gestured to the open air.
Bonnie shrugged. "Whatever… What's your name, then?"
"My name is Ada." She answered, sweeping her gaze over the room before locking eyes with Bonnie. "I've been watching you for a while, Bonnie Read. Wondering what decisions you would make, if any at all."
"What do you want?" Bonnie asked, sniffling and rubbing the tear tracks from her cheeks.
Ada uncrossed her legs, got to her feet in one fluid motion, and approached Bonnie. She offered Bonnie her hand, and Bonnie saw her hand was gloved.
"Your allegiance." Ada answered solemnly.
Bonnie raised her head, too sad and confused to find the energy for any major movements.
Ada seemed to understand this and continued to speak.
"I know how you feel, Bonnie Read." Ada promised sincerely, and there was an immeasurable level of grief in her voice. "Dragon killed someone I loved, too."
Ada dropped her hand and took a seat beside Bonnie then. She told her a story, one too terrible to really listen to. But Bonnie heard anyway, each miserable detail, and realized Ada and she had that in common. Neither of them really wanted to live.
But Dragon did. Thanks to Netty, Dragon had no intention of dying.
"But he needs to." Ada insisted, clutching her knees. "He can't just turn his back on everything he's done. Someone's got to pay for it. Otherwise, all the people he's killed will never rest in peace. And I need my friend to be able to sleep peacefully. It's the only thing I have to offer now.
"You, too, right? Don't you want… Your crew and lover to be able to rest peacefully?"
No. She wanted Flint back. She wanted him here, with her, holding her hand and letting her rest her weary head on his shoulder. But that was an impossible dream.
As for resting in peace, Flint was already doing that. This… What this woman was offering… Would only disturb and concern Flint. It would mean betraying him, her crew, and Netty. It wasn't justice, but vengeance. A petty vendetta born from self-righteous ego.
But what was the alternative? To live with this grief for the rest of her life? To be in this dark place, overshadowed by a happiness her sister had stolen from her?
No.
So she lied.
"Yes… They should rest peacefully." She whispered. Her heart lurched at the words. Treasonous, emotionless words. She saw so many things in an instant. Netty shielding Dragon from the Gorosei, Flint lifeless, her crewmates lying in pieces in the dirt, and she saw herself as a child, sitting in her sisters arms as they both looked up at the stars and dreamed of the world beyond their sad little village.
Irrelevant.
She would never feel anything again. This was the only thing left to do.
Even if it meant betraying them… She didn't really care anymore. She would take back what they had stolen from her. Her heart, her love, Flint's love… She would take it back.
Doing nothing was no longer an option.
Kuma had warned her. She didn't care. Maybe this was the only option. Kuma, or maybe Dragon, would kill her. Netty would see it, and finally, finally realize what he was.
"What do you want me to do?" Bonnie asked, hopeful, eager, and tense all at once.
Ada saw this and smiled, relieved. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a gun. It looked ordinary, which was disappointing. An ordinary handgun was useless against Dragon.
Ada cradled the gun in her hands and held it out to Bonnie. Bonnie took the gun and raised it to her face, pointing it at the ceiling. She turned it this way and that, and gave Ada a look of skepticism and doubt.
"Flint's sword can cut the seastone, remember?" Ada asked in a lilting voice as she tilted her head. "That's because it was gifted to him by a theif who stole it from the Kozuki clan. We stole this handgun from them, too. The bullets are made of the same material as Flint's sword. In other words, those bullets can't be blocked with haki."
Bonnie's fingers curled greedily around the gun handle. Bullets that couldn't be blocked by haki, or seastone, or anything.
Maybe this could kill Dragon after all.
"If you're telling the truth, prove it." Ada said as she got to her feet. "Shoot Dragon or Kuma with that. If you do, I'll tell you where your sister is, and welcome you as my comrade."
Bonnie gulped. Netty's location… If she could kill Dragon, Netty would run to her. She would have no one else to run to. It would be just the two of them. Just like old times.
She turned to Ada, to promise that she would succeed.
But Ada was gone. She had entered and exited into thin air, leaving nothing behind. Bonnie almost convinced herself it was a dream, but the cold weapon in her hands told her otherwise.
She placed the gun in her lap, folding her hands over it. She could do this. If she did, everything would go back to the way it was. The pain would go away, and her sisters heart would no longer belong to that monster.
She could fix everything with one bullet.
She smiled to herself, hopeful and relieved.
"Flint…" She said, overjoyed at his memory for the first time in months.
00000
Ruka wasn't allowed out of bed.
But Makino stayed with her. Ruka could hardly move, and so Makino helped her to eat and drink. When the doctor came and had to unwrap Ruka's bandages, apply more medicine, and rewrap the bandages, it was Makino who held Ruka's hand. She repeatedly told her in a gentle voice to remain calm, even though a strange, unfamiliar man was basically undressing her.
Ruka wanted to kick his teeth in. But that was no way to treat a professional doctor, who was only looking for anything more serious. Besides he must've been the one to put the bandages on her the first time. Probably the village doctor, and Makino seemed to trust him.
Once she was out of her old bandages, into her new ones, drugged up, fed, and watered, Ruka finally felt a little stronger. Groggy and trembling, but able to sit up and turn around.
Makino seemed to figure out she liked silence, and disliked books. She didn't bring them with her any more, and she didn't talk much.
It couldn't have been more than a few hours, but it felt like days. Makino sat at the far edge of the room, eyes on Ruka, knees drawn to her chest. Ruka sat on the bed, leaning into the wall, cheek pressed against the material.
Dragon had taught her to identify a room by two things: underground or above ground, and wall material. Some walls were built to be sound proof, especially the ones underground. Rooms above ground usually smelled a certain way, and if they had windows, you could look out and try to figure out where you were.
Ruka was underground. The room was maybe four by four, no windows, one bed, one chair, and a flight of stairs.
She trusted Makino—she was a smart girl, motherly and protective. The people in this village had every reason to turn Ruka into the marines, but they'd hidden her instead. They'd called a doctor, given her food. They were trapping her here so she could rest.
So why was she so jittery? True, she couldn't move normally. But inside, it felt like carbonated water bubbled in every blood vessel, every limb and organ.
"Can we talk?" Makino piped up.
Ruka's head raised and turned with difficulty. Makino was looking out at her with earnest, playful eyes. When she spoke, it had been with kindness and curiousity, but mostly caution.
Ruka raised and lowered her shoulders in a shaky shrug.
Makino lowered one foot, then the other, and gripped the underside of her chair as she slipped off. She approached Ruka on silent feet, coming to stand beside her without touching the bed. Ruka watched Makino fold her arms behind her back, the edges of her mouth pulling up in a friendly smile.
"Blink twice for yes, once for no. Okay?" Makino asked, tilting her head in an awkward grin.
Ruka studied her carefully, the way Dragon would if he were injured and kept underground. The image of Dragon in this position infuriated her, while also serving to bring some light back into her eyes. At least it was she in this situation instead of him.
"We saw your wanted poster." Makino began, shifting uncomfortably. "So, I know your name. Ruka, right?"
Ruka blinked twice.
"Why did you fall from the sky?" Makino asked, then winced. "Ah, that wasn't a yes or no question. Umm… Is there some place you need to go?"
Ruka blinked twice and nodded.
"Is it somewhere in East Blue?" Makino asked hopefully.
Ruka blinked once.
"That's a problem." Makino admitted sadly. "We're just a small village. There's nothing here but a few fishing boats. We can't take you anywhere else."
Ruka shook her head fervently, then flinched and curled in on herself as a searing pain coaxed over her shoulders and down her spine. She gripped her shoulders and grit her teeth. Makino stood by, helpless, unable to do anything.
"Let's stop this." Makino decided, taking a seat at the far end of the bed. "Let me tell you more about where you are. Would that help?"
Ruka slumped against the wall, weak and tired, and blinked twice.
Makino started off with her village. It was extraordinarily small, she said. Even though it was apart of the Goa Kingdom, the most beautiful and renowned country in East Blue, they lived separate lives from the other citizens within the walled monarchy towns. But thanks to that, they enjoyed a unique peace others never lived to know.
Not that they lived entirely peaceful lives.
They made most of their money by selling fish and melons in High Town. Three weeks earlier, Makino's parents were out fishing in a little dinghy and were swept out to sea by a sudden riptide. Their bodies washed up on shore five days later. About half a year before that, a plague swept through the village. The adults, who were all hardworking fishermen or famers or handymen, fought it off with the help of some cheap herbal remedies. The children were not so lucky. Dubbed the "Children's Plague," Makino was the only living child their town had left. Her childhood friends and siblings were all dead.
"So now all the people still young enough to have kids, don't want to." Makino finished up, deathly still. "And all the rest are too old. And then there's me."
Ruka hooked her thumbs around each other and pulled. Her fingers and wrists were too weak for wringing, but her heart was aching. This was a nice place to live. If she and Bonnie had grown up here, they would've been nothing but happy.
"They saved me from the plague by hiding me down here for three months." Makino admitted.
Ruka's tensed. Her bright, dark eyes flickered up and met Makino's. She was young. Probably no older than fourteen.
"But our village has a low birth rate, and some of the grownups are a little worried. I miss my friends too. They would have liked you, you know. They always said nothing neat ever happened here."
There were heavy footsteps overheard, just then, and Makino whipped her head up. Ruka tensed and moved to crawl over the bed, but Makino showed a beaming grin and hopped to her feet. She closed the distance between the bed and the stairs and clambered up them like a bunny. Ruka heard the trap door open and shut with a bang, and Makino's cheerful voice, like sunbeams cutting through storm clouds, travelled through the ceiling.
"Garp-san! You're back!"
Garp…
Ruka mulled the name over in her head. She drew her name to her chest, drummed crooked fingers over her temple. Then, a memory clicked into place, like the clogs of gears meshing together to turn each other.
She recalled how the frosted air rub her skin raw. Dragon's rough fingers circled her wrist, pulled her behind him. Three pairs of eyes were on her, all of which changed from threatening to astonished instantaneously. One old face, a ring of gray hair circling the top of his head, turned pale and horrified, as he screamed out the only name that haunted him.
"Dragon's… father." Ruka uttered weakly, eyes shifting from internal conflict. Fight or flight, fight or flight?
The trapdoor opened, and heavy footsteps made the stairs creak.
Ruka moved too fast, tried to get to her feet, and hit the ground shoulder first. She locked her teeth together, not wanting to scream in front of the enemy.
But he was already there—fast!—already kneeling beside her. One of his large fists—no, hands, one of his hands, his fingers were uncurled—was on her back, to stop her from making another jump.
Ruka braced bandaged forearms against the ground, tilted her head back, looked up at the old man's face that was streaked with wrinkles.
She lowered bandaged eyebrows over cold eyes in a glare.
"Hey, girl." Garp said to her, gruffly and kindly. "How's Dragon?"
00000
So was Doffy a better choice than Whitebeard? I'm kind of second guessing that one, but it fits the plot at least. Please review!