Tell it to the Marines
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Chapter 38
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"I can't believe you wrote a book."
"Sabo, please, stop."
"But all these stories! And they've all got these morals and this feel-good factor; they're fantastic!" Sabo's grinning, prodding her teasingly in the side and Riskua tries to elbow him away, only he's not going anywhere.
They're once again sat up to a table within the Revolution's base on Baltigo, a half-finished breakfast spread dominating the table before them.
It's been a month, a month since she last saw her father, saw him again for the first time in eight years.
It'd been, nice, if a bit awkward. Because before, she'd been a child, had grown knowing that he would be there, that no matter how long he was gone, he'd always be back. Would always come back.
Only now there's nowhere in her life for him to come back to.
Riskua's home is now no longer a summer island nestled dangerously close to a calm belt. Her home is no longer a physical thing; home is Sabo, is Luffy, is Ace. Home is people now, the three people she has spent near half her life with, had her developmental experiences with. The people she'd experienced genuine terror with, genuine happiness... she's had a life, no, she has a life with those three.
And no matter how much she loves Shanks, loves her father... he wasn't there for that. He isn't home, and now, he cannot visit home either.
Not unless he ends up joining Luffy's crew or something. Because her home is in those three, and as long as she's with one of them, then she will never feel homesick.
Mentally snorting in amusement at the very thought of Shanks ever joint Luffy's crew, Riskua refocuses her attention on the book currently in Sabo's grasp, holding out her hand demandingly.
The blond doesn't hand it over though, instead sliding it into the deep pocket of his jacket with a grin. He's lucky it's such a small book, the one with just text.
Riskua's aware (given that Mihawk had told her on one of his many visits) that some artist had drawn up images to match the tales, but she's never actually seen them herself. The children's tales, it's just been something she did back when she was a child, back when she was trying desperately to cling to her old life as well as juggle this one.
Now, now she embraces this life, arms thrown wide, and there's only thoughts to the past on if it can help her.
She is Dracule Riskua now, temporary Revolutionary and future Strawhat Pirate.
"Look, there's new bounty posters."
Koala slaps two down upon the table, right on top of Riskua's half finished plate, prompting the redhead to grimace. She'd still been eating that, damn it.
Peering down at the official document, Riskua's eyebrows climb up in surprise.
There's a blurry photograph on the centre of the sheet, but to anyone who has seen her disguised self; it is clearly her.
'Purple Lady' is stamped across beneath the image, with a 40,000,000 reward upon capture; dead or alive. Whistling long and low, Riskua sits back, frowning slightly on the rather generic name.
Until she spots Sabo's own poster; while the picture is significantly better than hers, he too has been lumped with a rather uninspiring nickname; 'Blue Gentleman'. The epithet is at odds with the image, given Sabo had been captured mid-swing with his pipe, and the snarl on his face looks nothing like that of a gentleman. The brim of the top hat covers his eyes, and perhaps that's why they've been lumped with the nicknames that they have.
After all, Riskua's dress had been rather ladylike in that incident.
"45,000,000 and 40,000,000," Sabo muses, one hand rubbing at his chin as he mulls over the number. "Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. They must not have overheard you talking to your father, my Lady."
"Zaa, call me that again and I'll punch you."
"Alright, alright!" Sabo holds up his hands in surrender, a teasing grin on his face.
Riskua holds her glare for a second before her own face crumples into a cheery smile. Because the blond irritant is right, 40,000,000 isn't bad at all.
"Riskua?"
Pausing at the sound of Hack's voice, Riskua cocks her head back to look at the fishman, pursing her lips.
"Yes?"
"Dragon-san wishes to see you."
Oh.
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"Your Concealment Haki is ingenious... I do believe it's time we put it to the test."
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To say Riskua is nervous would be an exceptional understatement. Because it's not every damn day you end up on a mission with the boss. And just the boss alone.
Riskua, she's not quite sure how to handle it. Because for all this is Dragon the Revolutionary... he's also Monkey D. Dragon, Luffy's father.
And, she's not quite sure how much he cares for her darling little brother. Enough to entrust his safety to Garp, but… there's a huge period of time between that moment and his rise to fame as the world's next big threat.
What had he been doing? Had he really not been capable of looking after Luffy? How old was Luffy when he was handed over to Garp, how long did Dragon get to spend with his new-born son? What happened to Luffy's mother?
They're all unanswered questions, all information she doesn't know that sits in the back of her mind, a heavy presence and she doesn't dare to open her mouth and voice them. She doesn't have any real reason to, other than personal curiosity. After all, Luffy probably doesn't even know he has a father, even less that it's the guy she and Sabo are following around after.
Would Luffy even care anyway? She already knows the answer to that, it's a stupid question really, because obviously Luffy doesn't care.
She knows her dear brother; he's gotten by just fine with only her, her and Sabo and Ace. They are his family, even Garp, for all that he's a no-show for all but a few days of the year. Luffy's content with his life right now, and then he's setting off to become a pirate.
He has no real desire for a father.
After all, what's there to miss, when you've never really experienced it in the first place?
It leaves her unsure of how to even act around Dragon, that's for sure. Which is why she's sat up to a generic bar top, steadily ploughing her way through a bowl of rice and chicken, mixed in some kind of local sauce. She doesn't have a clue what it is, other than the fact it is unquestionably tasty.
They'd arrived on this rather beautiful island via the Revolution Express (the fastest ship in the Revolution's clutches right now) and Riskua doesn't even know the name given to the mass of land she currently walks on.
Only that Dragon had insisted it just be the two of them, because this is a stealth operation, until it's not. Whatever that means.
Riskua has a terrible sinking feeling, but given that she's not being trusted with the objectives of this mission until it's actually underway (something about not being able to spill the beans if she was captured) her gut instinct is probably right in this case.
Adjusting the strap of her goggles, Riskua checks the wrap of Concealment she has cocooned herself in once more, nervously looking over one shoulder. Knowing you're a wanted woman with a bounty sitting pretty on your head certainly messes with your paranoia levels.
Listening to the conversations occurring around her, Riskua grimaces as she realises exactly why the city is looking its very best.
A Tenryūbito is visiting.
She hasn't been so damn close to a World Noble since the fire back on Dawn, and she has absolutely no desire to be near one now. So why-
Choking on the rice in her mouth, Riskua drops her chopstick in shock, staring right ahead without really seeing anything. It's a struggle enough to keep hold of her Concealment.
Everything has slotted into place, all at once.
This is how Dragon does it.
This is how he becomes the World's Most Wanted Man.
They're going to do something to the Tenryūbito here.
It's obvious, so painfully obvious. She's not sure what, but it all just, fits. Clicks into place.
It's also why she couldn't be told about it at the get-go; if the marines had caught her upon arriving at the island, then Dragon would have been able to continue without her. Smart.
Only now, now that she's had time to gather information and take a stab in the dark about what they're here to do-
"We are moving, now."
Flinching slightly at the sudden Dragon hanging over her shoulder, Riskua pushes away her unfinished rice, no longer hungry.
"Right, okay. I mean, yes sir, er, can you fill me in on what we're doing now, please?"
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Every inch of this ship seems like an unnecessary luxury, dripping in wealth that is as horrendously cold as it is aesthetically appealing. It's shallow, a shallow way to live life and Riskua feels sorry for the children that are born into such a world. They know better; but after becoming adults, then it is no longer innocence, just ignorance. They see all that goes on around them, and yet they still believe themselves above it all.
It's sickening, it has Riskua cringing, but all the same…
She's very unsure about being here herself. This seems an awfully big job for someone who hasn't even been a member of the revolution for a single year yet. But-
"You are the only one with the capabilities."
As Dragon had so plainly put it, she is the only one with the capability to hide not only herself under concealment, but another being too. Even if she cannot concentrate on anything else in the process. Not even walking.
They are both on deck, huddled in a spot Dragon has specifically chosen as no other person aboard the boat would have need of this section of the ship for several hours at least. They're waiting, hidden behind the many, many gifts the ungrateful Tenryūbito has been presented with upon her trip to the island that Riskua still has yet to learn the name of.
She doesn't know if she wants to, given that what they're doing here is going to… greatly displease the Tenryūbito, the World Government, the Marines, and probably a few other groups too. It's probably best she forgets all the information she can on this.
Dragon already has counter-plans in place; if neither of them contact a fellow Revolutionary within twenty-four hours, they are to assume both Riskua and Dragon have been captured, to abandon Baltigo and for Sabo to take up leadership.
In a moment of loquacity out of place with Dragon, the Revolutionary leader had admitted Sabo was the best choice to run the show should anything happen to him; that upon Dragon's death the blond would be the one to inherit his will. Riskua's not quite sure what that means, (though the words are nagging, maybe it's a will of D thing?) other than Dragon believes Sabo's drive to see change outweighs his inexperience. She rather agrees in all honesty; the blond would do a wonderful job.
But nothing is going to happen to either of them, so that is a moot point.
"We're really kidnapping a Tenryūbito," Riskua hisses under her breath, flicking her gaze towards Dragon from the corner of her eye. It's the first time since she met him that she can really see Luffy in this man, or this man in Luffy. Whatever.
The point is, Luffy would punch an Tenryūbito if they harmed his friends, she knows that like she knows oxygen lingers in the air she inhales. Luffy knows the consequences of such an action, but he'd damn well do it anyway if he felt he needed to.
Dragon feels this needs to happen, and no matter what kind of potential disasters he's going to pull down on them, they're going to do this thing. Perhaps in the original storyline it hadn't gone smoothly, perhaps it had.
Riskua's determined this will happen without any significant loss; namely that of her life or Dragon's.
It's only now, acknowledging the fact she will threaten the life of this ignorant woman if things get tough, that Riskua can acknowledge just how much this life has changed her.
In the before, something like this would have been unthinkable. But there is no black or white in this world, good is defined by one's standards, and Riskua can contemplate committing several terrible acts if it means those close to her won't suffer. If she had to choose between killing an innocent person and saving Luffy's life, there could only be one answer.
It doesn't mean she won't be haunted by what she'd do, but it's now a matter of what she can live with. If it comes down to the lives of her loved ones or her morals… well, Riskua is a selfish being.
She cannot live without those she loves, refuses to even consider it. This place has a dangerous way of getting you overly attached.
"She is a valuable source of information and her brother has oh so helpfully demanded half the marine forces remain upon the island while he stays longer than planned. We will not receive another opportunity like this."
"What's her name? If we're kidnapping her I'd like to know who I'm running away with."
Dragon's grin is wild, several shades more deranged than what she's seen Luffy pull off. Her younger brother has time to get to this level of crazy; no sane man decides to take on the entire world, after all.
"Lierae, she is a year your junior."
Riskua nods, trying to picture this young woman who no doubt looks down upon the world, who sees them as nothing more than the scum of the earth. It's a struggle, the only thing that's really sticking in her mind is that pompous haircut.
Then Dragon drops a bombshell.
"She happens to be the daughter of the Tenryūbito that Dawn was 'cleansed' for."
She happened to be the daughter of the man that, if given the opportunity, would have hurt Sabo. Perhaps it's stupid to associate such a thing to the present, a storyline that never occurred, a plot point discarded. But it was this young woman's father that was the cause of so much death and destruction and panic.
If the Tenryūbito feel anything for their family at all, then she hopes this is going to hurt that asshole, like he hurt so many of them.
She almost lost Ace and Luffy in that fire.
"Let's do this."
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Three hours later, finally, the World Noble and her little entourage arrive upon deck.
Wearing that criminally ugly fishbowl-astronaut suit thing, Lierae the Tenryūbito turns her nose up at all the Marines that surround her, as if they have served her a personal insult. Lilac hair (near enough the same shade as the dress Riskua had worn days ago) gleams in the light, pulled up into the atrocious hairstyle.
For someone younger than Riskua... well, the disguises redhead isn't sure what she feels.
She knows what she doesn't feel though; she feels no compassion for this girl (and she is a girl, too immature and ignorant to be a woman) and what is about to happen to her. Maybe there is something wrong with Riskua, because she doesn't flinch at the idea of what they're about to do.
What is the discomfort of one, when what occurs here come potentially help and save thousands? In this world, the end justifies the means is a concept that must be applied. Because not standing up for yourself here, it means being a doormat, just going with the flow of the world. Unlike in the before, the flow in this word is dangerous, deadly.
In this world, death isn't the worst thing that could happen.
Riskua is crouched on the beam of the mast, sucking her lip in between her teeth, watching the little procession make their way across the deck. She just needs them to walk beneath her, she needs to time this perfectly.
There's no Vice-Admirals here, the one that'd been accompanying these Tenryūbito staying with the male that remains on the island. They were so sure nobody would dare to stand in the way of the a Tenryūbito (never mind actually attack one) that meeting up with another Vice Admiral escort would be happening out at sea.
Or rather it should be; but Dragon didn't exactly plan on allowing the boat to meet up with their new marine escorts; not with the Tenryūbito still onboard anyway.
The group comes closer to passing just beneath her, and Riskua inhales, adjusting the hold she has upon her daggers. One step more.
Two of the marines are chatting to one another and Riskua wonders if there are any Cipher Pol agents disguised among them.
There are none that're ringing a bell in Riskua's mind though, not on appearance that is, so hopefully the answer is no.
The group finally passes beneath her and they're in position; Riskua drops down to meet them.
She's punted two off the side of the boat before they even think to react, before their oh so honoured guest even realises her entourage is under attack.
Dragon has appeared now, and three more marines are soaring over the side of the boat before Riskua realises what has hit them, though she forces herself to think no more upon it.
Instead, she shatters the Tenryūbito's bubble encasement with a Haki infused fist, forearm wrapping around the taller woman's shoulders and pressing the edge of her dagger to the woman's jugular.
The remaining marines freeze in disbelief and Dragon takes the opportunity to relieve the ship of their weight too.
"How dare you! Don't you know who I am?! I'm-" the Tenryūbito cuts herself off, choking in surprise as Riskua's blade nips slightly at her neck, a bead of red blood slowly trickling down to rest in the hollow by her clavicle.
The girl's probably never suffered anything worse than a papercut before, a very different kind of wound than what can be created with a dagger.
Riskua takes that moment to slam the hilt of her other dagger into the base of the girl's skull.
She goes down hard, unconscious right away, and Riskua hastily collects her fallen form in her arms.
The remaining marines on deck are only just starting to realise what is happening, still staring at Dragon, at her, in blatant disbelief.
Riskua thinks nothing more on it though, instead making for the side, leaping over with their abductee still in her hold.
The marines bellow for her to stop, but that doesn't last too long, meaning Dragon must be taking care of it.
Riskua hits the water, Haki swirling around her feet and she abandons all attempts at Concealment in order to focus on not drowning.
It's past midday now, the sun is starting its descent in the sky and Riskua heads away from it. There's a fair bit of ocean she needs to cover before meeting up with the Revolutionary force that's going to be waiting for them.
The girl in her arms feels far heavier than she should and Riskua throws her over one shoulder, one arm wrapping around her legs to keep the Tenryūbito in place while she uses the other one to balance herself as she goes skating across the ocean's surface. She rolls with the waves, salt water spraying up the material of her pants and she tries to focus on that sensation instead of what's running through her head.
She can't ignore it though; kidnapping is wrong.
But this one person compared to the hundreds of thousands the Tenryūbito have stolen throughout the years. One person taken prisoner to help end so many worse crimes…
It's a black mark Riskua can live with.
After all, it's not like she hasn't already killed a man to protect her loved ones.
She's not exactly got a clean slate right now; what's one more mark upon it?
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Riskua has running for five minutes, her legs burning from the sheer force. She's left the Tenryūbito ship well behind now, she can't even see it anymore. She's been getting faster and faster, feet swift, cutting through the waves as quickly as she can.
The only noise is the occasional whistle of the wind and her own panting breaths.
She has no idea if or when Dragon will be catching her up; she'd been told to pick up Lierae and make a run for it, as fast as she possible can.
Five minutes turn into ten, ten to fifteen, fifteen to twenty.
Her legs have long since passed the burning sensation, they cramp instead now, shooting pains that have her once smooth movements stuttering. She's almost fallen thrice now, having just recovered at the last second, and she's also almost dropped her passenger four times as well.
In all honesty, she's been seriously considering just dropping her for a while now, the weight of the Tenryūbito almost growing too much. It's a blessing she's not some great big fat woman because then Riskua really would have been in trouble.
Not to say she would actually drop the girl; Dragon would not only grace her with the frown of disappointment, but then the girl (Lierae, she has to acknowledge this is a person too, no matter how dreadful an individual she is) would die.
So, despite the pain, Riskua soldiers onwards.
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It's just as she's about to start her second half hour upon the ocean that she spots the ship, recognisable by the triangular red flag that flutters about nonchalantly at the very top of the flagpole.
The sight of it inspires just enough motivation in Riskua for the redhead to complete that last stretch of distance, salvation in sight.
There's a resounding boom just on the horizon, back the way she came, and Riskua leaps up towards salvation with four good kicks of Geppo.
She collapses down on the deck, not even bothering to throw her begrudging passenger away, instead just crumpling atop her.
Groaning, Riskua cannot even find the strength to lift her face from the cold wood of the deck.
Everything hurts.
Every last scrap of energy she has is going into sucking in more oxygen for her aching lungs, lungs that feel as if they've been scraped raw with ice, feel like they've been burnt and charred. It hurts, and there's black spots dancing across her vision.
She's pushed herself too far, Riskua numbly realises, squinting against her darkening vision but it's no good.
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Waking up in the medical bay is never a fun experience. Having to remain in the medical bay because she's strained her legs to the point of muscle tears is even worse.
That, even with the top medics of the Revolution doing their utmost best to help her, she has been forced to remain in said medical bay for ten days just about tops the experience off.
There's no visits from Sabo because he's out on a mission of his own, though a blatantly uninjured Dragon had appeared by her bedside not long after she'd awoken for her side of the story. As soon as the rehashing of that had been over, Dragon had nodded, promptly thanked her, then made his way to the door.
He'd stopped by the frame though, turning back to look at her with a rare smile (something soft and proud) blooming across his face for a mere second of time.
"My son chose a talented woman to act as his sister."
He'd disappeared before Riskua could think to ask for clarification, to enquire if that statement had been the Revolutionary leader's way of round about acknowledging their family connections to one another. He's not appeared in the infirmary since though, so Riskua hasn't exactly been able to get her answer.
Groaning, the redhead presses the heels of her palms into her eyes, just thankful she can do that much.
"You look like you're at the end of your rope," Koala muses, taking the seat beside her bed, crossing one leg over the other, ankle to knee. She's not smiling, her expression tense, and given what Riskua knows of her past, it's no wonder.
After all, they have a Tenryūbito stuffed in the basement; one of the people that had slaves, took people and made them into lesser beings, nothing but property. It's not even a surprise that Koala's unhappy.
Especially given that Dragon has put her in charge of looking after their guest.
Sighing, Riskua runs her hands down her legs, gritting her teeth against the pain that spikes through them. Because by god does that hurt.
"How is our guest?" Riskua asks, attempting to change the subject. It's not even a graceful change, not a covert one. It's almost Luffy levels of heavy-handed, but Riskua does not what to talk about how very little she's been capable of doing trapped in this sickbed, as she is. All she's been getting is paperwork that can be delegated off on someone else. Which sucks, but she's so bored that it's almost a good thing. Almost, because paperwork is still paperwork.
By god, Riskua cannot wait until she becomes a pirate, there'll be no paperwork other than what she wants to do for her Haki studies then.
On that topic, she's certainly going to be a lot more careful about using her Haki now; apparently, she can run out of the Haki she's been using to perform the water skating technique just like you can armament. Now she just needs to see if she can increase her Haki levels some more. It is willpower, after all. If she can increase that, then consequently, her Haki should increase too, shouldn't it? Haki is a by-product of willpower, so there has to be some kind of correlation…
She needs something to note all these ideas down on.
"Well the uppity attitude is gone," Koala begins, elbow on her knee and head resting against the back of her fist, "she tried getting Farren to let her out, saying she'd tell the marines to not kill him and he can instead serve as her slave for life."
"What an idiot," Riskua murmurs under her breath, rolling her eyes as Koala nods along in agreement.
"Farren of course just laughed in her face, and then one of his underlings backhanded her for daring to suggest she'd get them all killed. She's been quiet since; I think she's starting to realise exactly what situation she's in now."
"One her status cannot get her out of, one that ensures she's actively disliked."
She needs a wakeup call, that Tenryūbito they've got hidden in the basement. She wonders how the girl would react knowing that Dragon is a descendent of D; the Tenryūbito are told to fear them, are they not? Perhaps that would get her take them all seriously. Or maybe she'll remain in her delusions a little longer, who knows.
Given that the world at large believes 'Saint' Lierae died in the explosion that earned Dragon his title as 'World's Most Wanted Man', there isn't exactly going to be a big rescue planned for her here.
"That pompous hairdo had collapsed now that there's no products to sustain it though," Koala admits with a grin. As that is one of the statement styles for the Tenryūbito that visibly marks them as different from everyone else, it's no wonder the former slave girl is grinning.
"What are we even going to do with her in the end? It's not exactly like the Revolution can let her run free after we get the information we want out of her," Riskua points out, chewing on the edge of her lip afterwards. It's true though, what can they do other than keep her prisoner?
"I think… I think Dragon-san wants to see if we can educate her."
It's said as if the thought is a distasteful thing, as if it's a vegetable that's proclaimed a good idea but the actual stomaching of it isn't easy.
Still, it makes perfect sense to Riskua; is that not what Hack is attempting to do with Arlong, who they're still holding prisoner? But, Arlong had been influenced by Fisher Tiger before his capture at the hands of herself and Sabo.
This Tenryūbito has sixteen, near seventeen years of false ideals to work through; to overcome behaviour that has been engrained in her since childhood that the way she acts is not only acceptable but expected. Dragon is taking on a monumental task here.
Or rather, he's giving the Revolution as a whole a monumental task, because she doubts their glorious leader has the time to devote himself to that particular cause.
Urgh, which means she's probably gonna get pulled into this too. Wonderful.
Once she's given the go ahead to get back to work from the medical team that is.
"Koala? Do you mind fetching me a notepad and pen, please? I've got some ideas to scribble down."
She might as well try and remember all she can on human conditioning that she can while she's at it.
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We're now at 300,000 views for this fic; thanks guys! The chapter is about 100 words short, but the additional bit I had planned on putting in, seemed to just not fit. So yeah.
There's a timeskip between here and the next chapter, so be prepared for that.
Guest review who read the whole thing in 8 hours; I'm so pleased you enjoyed it, and let it be known your review was super motivating,
Lots of love,
Tsume
xxx