thank you's: Leynadoodles, Lucinda M. H. Cheshir, Sekishu023, scars from the sun, akihae, read a rainbow, apple-ya, Alexel, Ladyktbaby, a fan, tabi404, Eve et Z'oda, SuzyQBeats, Yaknow WhatIming, sarge1130, MenoMelissa, Misaki, wise whale, Kitkat24687, and TaintedLetter!
notes: happy new year my lovelies! thank you for your answers to sophie's bounty question! i hope the number i've picked will be both suitable and very fun for the hearts and their grumpy captain. i must say i love how much people enjoyed law's pov scenes… i headcanon his inner thoughts as quite explicit, so i should wield this power responsibly…
this chapter took a bit of time to fix up, but i'm super satisfied with it, and i hope you enjoy!
—
methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #40
what awaits you
—
It was Sophie's great idea to train at the butt-crack of dawn. No time for sleep; she had to get stronger.
But it was hard to focus when she hadn't slept well and spent the night counting Jean Bart's snores. Since coming back, she'd been sleeping in the engine room instead of her tiny closet-turned-cabin, with Jean Bart and Kamasu and the endless white noise of machines to keep her company. They played gin rummy until the men drifted off, leaving Sophie to curl up in her blanket and watch the flickering lights of the submarine's heart. She was too tense to sleep. Her body was wound up like a tight coil, listening for the snap of Aokiji's ice or the croon of Teach's darkness. It was ridiculous, they were a hundred meters below sea, but…
Law found an easy opening and flicked Kikoku. Sophie yelped, her hands stinging. Arsenic clattered several feet away.
He flicked his hand in a come-on motion. "Again."
This would've been humiliating on a normal day, but Law had disarmed her while wearing a sleep mask to train his Observation. It was fuzzy and brown with a blushing bear face on it. Sophie wasn't sure whether to feel demeaned or enraged over how cute her diabolical captain looked.
Their weapons clashed again, biting at each other. Sophie couldn't even drink to get rid of her miseries. Kamasu offered her a swig of his rum the other day. Without thinking, she lifted the bottle to her mouth and the second it hit her tongue, the rum ended up all over the engine room floor and Kamasu was yelling over wasted drink. Sophie doubled over, coughing and spitting, that awful taste giving her a splitting headache. Teach snickered in her ear.
In one slick move, Law caught her wrist and flipped her over his shoulder. Sophie oof'd as she hit the mat.
Taking a second to make sure she could stand again, he tapped Kikoku against her calf. "Sloppy footwork. Are you even trying to use Observation?"
Growling, she went on the attack, Sen a bullet-grey smear of fuming movement. Teach was still out there. Impel Down would be repaired. Mihawk, Sengoku, Doflamingo—if any of them had fought her seriously, without any of her tricks or outside help, she'd be dead. She had more potions brewing, more science to do, but it would mean nothing if her body couldn't keep up with Devil Fruit users and Warlords and Supernovas. Sophie jabbed at Law with desperate frustration, spinning dizzily to keep the quick-footed swordsman in sight.
He listened to the rhythm of her footsteps, then slid past her defenses on the off-beat and tapped her thigh. "Focus."
She nearly cut herself on the blade in her haste to jump away. "I am—"
"You're not." Blindfolded, Law sidestepped her as she stumbled. He kicked her on the ass so she toppled over. "Watch the feet. Keep your head on."
Sophie lost her grip on Arsenic, which bounced away from her fingers like a dead fish, but that was less upsetting than her stinging butt. She rolled up, lurching forward on her heels and swinging wildly with her fists. "My head is on just fine!"
Kikoku decapitated her, right through the throat. That was so on purpose.
"You pineapple," she grumbled as he caught her skull in one hand.
The sparring match was over. Law pushed the fuzzy bear blindfold over his forehead. "Your Armament was stronger before."
He was just neutral enough to make her cheeks burn. He was right. Since the war, her Armament was a whisper. Her Observation wasn't making any progress either. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. "I know, I know that, you don't h-have to—put my head back."
He did. Sophie tore open the sweaty collar of her boiler suit for some air, claustrophobically angry. The walls were shrinking in around her. Law was finally going to yell. He was finally going to call her an idiot for leaving in the first place when he pleaded with her not to. For getting caught, for Ace, for—(she dreamed about that glistening eel-dark, she dreamed of asking the abyss why it chose her and the abyss crooning back, Oh, but you approached me, ducky, you were sweet to me, you walked into this darkness on your own—)
"Hey. Deep breaths."
As her face met Law's chest, Sophie realized she was on the cusp of hyperventilating. "Nothing's working, 'm not getting better, useless and it hurts, I c-can't do this, I can't—"
Naturally, Law did what he usually did when there was a girl latched onto him like a panicking bonobo monkey. He asked her to recite Belphegor's Prime.
Sophie bit her lip and sighed. "Ten to the… the p-power of thirty, add six six six…" Her fingers tapped slowly, breath slowing. "Multiplied ten to the power of fourteen, add one."
"There'll be good days and bad days." His hand was threading through her short hair, the sides cut tight and the top poofy. "I went too hard on you."
"No," she said into his shirt, then made a tiny, irritated noise. "Whatever, I asked you to." His hand had reached the small bald patches on the back of her head. It wasn't very visible thanks to her curls, but Law found it. She was embarrassed enough to mutter, "Don't touch it. It's weird."
"Telogen effluvium is normal. There's already hair growing back. But I wasn't looking at that. You're greying."
"I'm—what?"
He didn't touch her hair again, but he investigated. "Just a few strands. It happens with stress."
Sophie wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She dug her face further into his chest, tight-fisted, counting the pace of his heart. And then, abruptly, she was aware that she was pressed right up against Law, his chest and abdomen damp with sweat and thrumming with exertion.
She looked up fast, her breath catching in her throat.
"You're shaking." Law's voice rumbled from his chest into hers. His thumb traced up her jaw, and his hand followed, cupping her face. A few inches lower, and… "Tell me," he murmured quietly, bringing shivers up her spine, "what you want."
If she stood on her toes, if he stooped down, the barest distance between them would vanish in an instant. Her heart jackhammered, and she—
—tasted sour rum.
Sophie inhaled a quick, sharp breath and pushed him back. "I want to fight."
One moment she was about to get her world rocked, and the next she wanted to rip out her grey-streaked balding hair and scream, Look at what you did to me! at the abyss; she heard it purr back, Look at what you let me do to you. Sophie went into her stance, eyes red-rimmed but steely. Comfort wasn't going to repair what hurt most. This needed to bleed.
And Law, who understood the process of bloodletting, allowed himself to be pushed back a step. He lifted Kikoku to make himself a crueler target, and answered in the ice voice he knew she wanted to hear: "Then fight."
This time, when she struck with Perihelion in the brutal geometries of Marine knife-combat, he kept the blindfold off.
—
Bepo knew before anyone else did, really.
In the beginning, he noticed she'd watch the Hearts casually touch each other with an envious, uncomfortable look. Back then, they joked that the weird marine girl probably never had a friend before. Bepo had smelled the anxiety on her, the self-contempt as she turned her nose up at them, and thought that sounded right.
But Sophie smelled different nowadays. Like ink and old parchment and that beat-up leather journal she'd been scribbling in. Beneath that was usually the scent of tobacco, but lately it was replaced by something more… earthy and herbal and smoky. Burnt flowers. It smelled like the place where Manta grew plants, the humid alcove beneath the bathroom's leaky pipes.
He followed the scent to the ship's galley, the origin of which was a fragrant chamomile cigarette between Sophie's fingers as she pulled open the fridge door. And Bepo was hit with another smell. A smell that wafted around all the Hearts, yes, but was especially pungent around her this morning. Just like that time in the Florian Triangle. And the morning when she sailed to Marineford.
A smell that was simply and purely Captain.
Sophie eyed the cold beer, but took out the orange juice. "Morning, Bepo," she yawned. Law's scent was so pervasive he may as well have been draped over her, like the matted fur of a sleep-deprived, obnoxiously male snow leopard.
Bepo was spiraling. He was sure Captain and Sophie had done minkship, only the furless version of it. In fact, they must have minkshipped repeatedly. Gosh, the friendly camaraderie between them was borderline obscene! Ah, but wasn't minkship different with humans? Penguin and Shachi once explained that only humans with certain kinds of relationships hugged or cuddled or licked. But Bepo found that quite odd, because everyone on the Polar Tang touched or hugged without the confusing silliness of putting names on their relationships.
Meanwhile, Sophie was having a crisis of her own. She couldn't find a mug for her orange juice. Her heart dropped through her body. Was Hai Xing hiding them from her? She must've done or said something bad. Or she used the mugs in a wrong way and insulted everyone. No, no, she was being a paranoid idiot. Or was she? If everyone secretly hated her, this was exactly the evidence she needed—
Oh. The mugs were in another cabinet. Hai Xing had rearranged. She was, in fact, a paranoid idiot.
"Me toooo!" Bepo swept her up in a giant bear hug, wailing in the middle of the galley. Uni walked around them to get a plate of scrambled eggs.
Sophie spat out her orange juice. "Bepo!? Wh—what's w-wrong!?"
"We are having some character-building minkship." He nuzzled his forehead against hers. Just like what she and Captain were doing, he was certain.
"Oh! …Okay." She let out a tiny exhale, her frazzled overthinking nerves settling, and hugged him back. "…This is nice."
Law peered around Bepo. The bear caught a whiff of Sophieness on his captain, which was further evidence of their clandestine friendship touching. "Hug her more, Bepo. Until her eyes bug out and her head bursts like a tomato, so I can collect her brain matter."
"Oh, we haven't had a dissection comment in a while," remarked Shachi.
"Aye, Bepo-sama! Hug me! Ehehehe!" Blood gushed from Sophie's nose. She attempted to die in Bepo's cuteness.
"Or a weird pervert nosebleed," added Penguin.
Law snapped that he didn't mean it literally, and told Bepo to set her down so she wouldn't be further tempted by his tantalizing furriness. Bepo was often tickled when she cursed in fruits, especially pineapple. Whenever she did, he got a fuzzy memory of pineapple homes hanging in the canopy of a misty forest…
But today, as Sophie stuffed tissues up her nostrils, she said, "Ehehe… ah, shit."
Hai Xing snapped his spatula in half. Penguin's jaw swung open. Law spat out his coffee. Shachi's sunglasses cracked. Bepo gaped. Uni choked on his scrambled eggs. In the engine room, Kamasu and Valross stopped their maintenance work and looked up. In the control room, Anko shivered. Manta slipped in the shower.
"…Is everyone alright?" Jean Bart asked.
Shachi raised his fork like a weapon. "Who are you and what did you do to Sophie?"
"She's running a fever!" Penguin accused. "Or suffering a debilitating concussion!"
Law checked her temperature with his hand. "Lie down. Right now."
"Pineapple dummies!" Sophie huffed, shooing them all away. "I underwent a harrowing character arc! With a dramatic haircut and everything! I've changed. I've matured. I've—"
"Been replaced by an edgy clone," Penguin heckled. She beamed him with a bloody tissue that had just been up her nose. He screamed.
"Sophie, a cup of orange juice for breakfast? Is that an insult?" Hai Xing shoved a plate in her arms. It was piled high with rice, salmon, natto, octopus-shaped sausage, eggs, and buttered toast. "Eat this. Then give me money for a new spatula. Got it, Sophie?"
She'd never heard Hai Xing say her name that many times in a row before. As if he was telling himself she was still there. She sat down to eat, slapping away the hands that cheerfully stole from her plate. These thieving pirates weren't intimidated by her Very Cool, Very Threatening Transformation! As Sophie started pinching noses as payback, Law rested his chin on his hand and grinned against his knuckles.
It went unnoticed by everyone except Bepo, who contemplated how strange it was that everything could change and yet still remain the same.
—
"This thing is sun-powered?" Valross exclaimed.
Shachi marveled. "It's the Dials we saw on Machinastein. That cyborg lady had 'em too."
"Show me how you fly on it," Kamasu demanded.
"Bullets and wind." Penguin flipped Arsenic around. "There's no Dial in the third barrel."
"Not yet." Sophie spread out the sky island shells that she took from Cat's Eye Island. Coral-pinks, aquamarines, sandy yellows. "Thinkin' something for underwater movement. Wave Dial, maybe! But that's for later. I'm still having trouble flying. Can you take a look at the inside? It's kind of hard to figure out, but—"
The mechanics rolled up their sleeves and retorted, "Who do you think we are?"
She had a new routine. Flying practice took place before breakfast, looping in circles around the Polar Tang until she could do figure-eight swoops without falling off. After breakfast was training—lifting weights or sparring with whoever was available (Sophie could count on Penguin, Shachi, or Bepo, all of whom yelled they weren't going to be left in the dust). Lunch she ate on the control room's deck, chatting with Anko and drinking her fourth coffee of the day. The afternoon was for research and experiments. Her Lichtenberg sapling had grown thanks to the electricity diet she'd fed it through copper and zinc nails, some wires, and a bunch of now-shriveled up potatoes.
At night, in the engine room with Kamasu drowsing nearby, Jean Bart kept her company. He slept on the other side of the pipes, and would hear her sniffling quietly, pinching herself until the nightmares of a flame-burned Sabo and a screaming Luffy and Vista pointing his flower swords at her heart stopped. He murmured stories as she rolled more chamomile cigarettes. Classic swashbuckling pirate tales, real old stuff, older even than Gold Roger. His deep rumble lulled her back to sleep, along with the smell of flowers and the hum of machinery.
One quiet, late evening, Sophie was peeling tangerines in the galley. Her fingers were gummy with its sweetness, and she occasionally threw one at Anko, who caught them in his mouth. He was poking fun at how serious Hai Xing looked while reading his book, his usual lighthearted jabs without any bite. Sophie vaguely recalled, a long time ago, wondering if they hated each other or not.
Without looking up from his book (a new edition of the lothario baron and his endless boyfriends, how scandalous!), Hai Xing muttered, "Loudmouths will suffer a most violent headache by the next waning moon…"
"We said no cursing me while I'm eating," Anko snapped.
"Chant with me, Sophie. In blood and fishbone, the cry of the disrespected mahi-mahi will enact vengeance…" Then he cut off, because Anko leaned over and kissed him, very matter-of-factly telling him to shut up. He might've also slipped a bit of tangerine into Hai Xing's mouth. Hai Xing considered this, rubbed his lip, and decided, "I accept your apology."
Sophie plopped her cheek on the table, getting tangerine peels everywhere. "I'm officially the third wheel now, huh," she sighed, unsurprised.
Hai Xing nodded. Anko laughed, basking in the glow of imagined adulation and envy.
A flat glare. Sophie slammed her palms on the table and shrieked, "HELLO! Tell me everything! Please! I am in dire need of a proper gossip!"
Hai Xing bookmarked his page. "I'll make tea."
"I'll help!" she chirped.
"I'll take my shirt off," Anko said, picking his ear. "That's my contribution."
"You are literally contributing nothing," Sophie pointed out.
Hai Xing patted Anko on the shoulder. "Thank you for your service."
Anko snickered at Sophie's groan, and Hai Xing looked a bit evil himself. She lamented that they were going to be so annoying, and then jumped on them with a big bear hug. What a great thing to come home to. The resulting crash on the floor and tomorrow's sore butt was worth it.
That wasn't the only good news that warmed the Polar Tang.
Jean Bart showed off his new tattoo: a big black heart, surrounded by the circle and six gears of the Hearts' jolly roger. It took Anko several hours to tattoo over the enormous hoof on his back. He enlisted Shachi, who also knew how to draw ink, to help. When they were done, all the ink had run out. No one cared in the slightest. The crew rose up in a cheer when they saw it.
Jean Bart, freedman, was quiet and taciturn like an old boulder. His crew had been wiped out many years ago. They'd made it to the Red Line before running into a World Noble's ship, and then… well, that was a tale as old as time. Law told him plainly he didn't need Jean Bart's gratitude; he'd heard of his exploits all the way in North Blue, and freeing him on Sabaody had been act of selfishness.
It should've filled Jean Bart with a sense of melancholy, thinking about his past adventures. He'd spent so long trying to forget who he'd been, pummeling his pride into nonexistence. But he looked around at this new wolf pack of young men, at his captain, and pulled his perpetual grimace into a small smile. In the end, it was wonderful to be alive.
"Though I was once a captain myself," he placed one hand over his chest, "I am happy to be a soldier now."
Law reclined against a sleeping Bepo, legs splayed out carelessly. "A crewmate, not a soldier. Understand?"
Jean Bart inclined his head and brushed his palm against his eyes. Hai Xing smacked Jean Bart in support and received a surprised, "Oof! You've a strong arm, little man." Anko did the same and received a bruised hand.
Sunset washed over the ocean, and a stillness settled over Law. The crew had all gathered on the deck. He'd been mulling over something since the end of the war, and now he had made up his mind.
"What!? We're still not heading to the New World?"
Law stretched his arms behind his head. "We wait for the right moment, is all I'm saying. No need to be hasty."
"Even so, with Blackbeard stirrin' shit up…" Penguin glanced quickly at Sophie. Having no particular feelings either way, she looked at the captain for his decision.
"If pirates are taking each other out, then so much the better for us." Law smirked. "No need to get involved with the small stuff. Stop blathering and just follow me."
"Captaaaain!" the pirates burst out joyously, radiating approval and admiration. Actual hearts sparkled in the air. Sophie lifted her arm with them, joining the cheers. Group unity and everything. Law was hilarious when he was so dramatic.
But then Law stood up, and if she looked down at their feet, she would've seen their shadows lengthening like war banners.
As the sun descended into the sea, he spoke aloud his plan to become a dog of the World Government.
—
For all of Sophie's miseries after the Marineford War, there was a small part of her that kinda… laughed at Teach's prophecy.
He had made her famous? All she saw were the stupid sensationalized photographs of her in the papers, tucked alongside the much more interesting articles about Luffy and Ace. Sure, Teach yapped and blabbered about how she had helped him in his devious schemes, killing Ace and Whitebeard and wreaking general worldwide havoc, but would the average person really believe it? Her name recognition was moderate, at best. She wasn't a Supernova.
Nobody would believe Teach, and even if they did, hopefully the news would've forgotten her by now and turned their attention to the next shiny thing…
From Amazon Lily, Sabaody Archipelago was the closest island to gather information about world events. The amusement park groves were still under construction after Teach sent a tsunami to the archipelago, and Hai Xing and Jean Bart were both a hard no to coming back here, for obvious reasons. For lack of better entertainment, the crew stayed behind to keep them company. It would be a quieter Sabaody; all the other Supernovas except for them and the Straw Hats had sailed intrepidly to the New World weeks ago, right after the Marineford War.
"Ready?" Law asked as they were about to leave.
Sophie hesitated, and covered her face. "…I wish I had my gas mask."
"Oh. You lost it against Aokiji, right?" He rubbed his chin. "The whole world has seen photos of your face by now. They already know what you look like."
"I know! And it's gross!" Sophie clutched her arms and shuddered. "Being perceived is such a gross feeling… maybe I should just stay inside…"
"Shachi," Law called, "can she borrow your shades and hat today?"
"Ah, sure," Shachi said, coming over.
"Wait, wait! Wait, I…" She blew noisily out of her lips and scratched her head in frustration. "Arrgh! I'm scared, but… I also don't want to have to hide at every island we sail to! Instead of b-being afraid, I should first see the extent of the damage, right? Then I'll know what to do about it."
Law gave his smirky smirk of approval. Shachi snapped his fingers and chuckled, "There ya go."
Soap bubbles popped high and bright above the lawless groves of Sabaody. The Polar Tang anchored in a secluded patch of mangroves to avoid attention, though it was a longer walk to the bustling center. On their way to the market, while keeping a careful eye on the distance between their hands, Sophie asked Law if he'd learned anything more about Doflamingo, codename Joker.
(The black market logs they found on St. Poplar felt like an eternity ago. Joker, SMILEs, Lisbeth's bizarre Devil Fruit. How surreal that he and Doflamingo had been so close in the war, the closest distance they'd come to each other in a decade. She didn't point that out. Law was probably still digesting that fact.)
"Not particularly. I was interrupted by Straw Hat punching a World Noble and setting off a riot."
"Ah, right… speaking of which, Yasopp's son is a Straw Hat. Usopp, I think? I should've asked Luffy about him—and Nico Robin! If she knows anything about the Poneglyphs…" Sophie trailed off, and sighed. "If I'd stayed on Sabaody, I could've met them…"
"The crew want us to buy sweets while we're out," Law said, shifting topics casually. Like he didn't want to talk more about what she wished she'd done. A sharp stab in her chest. No, of course not: Law had wanted her to stay on Sabaody, too.
Sophie bit the inside of her cheek and smiled up at him. "What the household wants, we do. To the markets, then?"
He nodded, looking ahead but matching his pace to hers. She glanced at the crook of his elbow, where there was just enough space to slip her hand into… but Law glanced down at her, and Sophie clasped her hands behind her back faster than a blink. She determinedly admired the soap bubbles.
They walked into the market. Stray, dirty newspapers littered the ground, and she stepped on a photo of Buggy the Clown taken mid-scream as he dragged Jinbe and Luffy away from Akainu. Yes, see? Her hair was different. She wasn't covered in blood and dirt and sweat. She looked normal. People would look at her and see a normal, twitchy, moderately burned person. And then they'd get on with their day. Nothin' to be afraid of.
If anyone in the bustling crowd recognized her, they weren't obvious about it. She couldn't move a step in any direction without bumping into someone else. Pirates everywhere, bounties everywhere, people paying more attention to their own business than her. How fantastic. The air clamored the oily hiss of roadside fried foods and shop display windows glittered with trinkets and candy. For a wondrous moment Sophie entirely forgot about the news, and the war, and the world. This was her soapy wonderland.
She followed the flow of the crowd and gasped when she saw a stall selling Sabaody soap. Law was just behind her, reading a fresh newspaper.
"Law, smell this!" she called behind her, heartily sniffing a bar of soap. "Oh my god, I wanna shove it in my mouth and eat it. But I, um, won't, because that would be insane. Ehehehe… do you have any other flavors? I mean scents? I've never eaten soap before!"
The soapmaker was an older woman who smelled like lavender and thyme, and she was glaring daggers at Sophie's outstretched, disfigured fingers.
"Snitches aren't welcome here," the soapmaker said.
Here we go. Sophie beamed at maximum charm power. "Salutations, Proprietress of Surfactants! What's that? You've heard the rumors about little old me? Funny story—"
"How much did Blackbeard pay you?" she demanded.
Law curled his hand against her back, the touch light but firm. Sophie looked steadily at the soapmaker, her fingers picking at burned scabs on her palm like a lizard trying to molt into new flesh. She set down the bar of soap. Then she said, "You got it wrong. He robbed me blind."
"Piss off with that victim bullshit," the other woman said. "Even if that's true, he should've done worse."
"Don't!" Sophie cried, and Law stopped a breath away from slicing through the soapmaker's mouth. "…Don't. It's okay. Let's go."
Kikoku didn't move. Pressure built against her ears, a faint, terrifying howl she could barely hear. Tensing up, she glanced at Law's expression—and shivered. This was the same pirate who told her, very calmly, he was going to stab her with a needle full of parathion now. Goodnight.
The noisy, teeming market had gone quiet. Birds chirped and clamored, eerily loud.
Sophie tugged on Law's arm, which for all its compact muscle had the stubbornness of a bull. If they slaughtered everyone who ridiculed her, Teach would win. Again. "I'm not bothered. Please, let's go, I want to leave. Please."
Law lowered his sword. But not before quietly informing the soapmaker, "She's the only reason why you live today. Understand this."
Sophie didn't ask what island the woman was from, if it was Whitebeard territory, if she'd known Ace. It wouldn't matter. "Sorry for the disturbance," Sophie mumbled, and yanked on her captain's hand, pushing into the gawking crowd.
"Did you just apologize?" Law said in disbelief.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Behind her, someone else shouted, "Why did you sell out Fire Fist!? Why'd you do it? Why did you fucking do it!?"
It stung. Her eyes, her heart. It rose up in her throat like bile. Somewhere out there, Teach had to be laughing over a cherry pie. There would be no more Nellies, Itus, or Ursas for her. He knew this would happen. He called this his gift.
The crowd parted, clearing a path.
The news that she was here rolled across the grove, like wind through wheat. A food cart was catching on fire because the cook was staring. Bordello windows pushed open and half-dressed women peered out to watch and smoke cigarettes. Shop owners loaded up shotguns in front of their doors. Suspicion, fear, fascination, disgust… she had never been so looked at, by so many strangers.
Before Marineford, no one had ever seen the Alchemist's face. Rumors swirled that beneath her gas mask was a pox-marked witch with boiled skin and a black snake tongue. Those rumors allowed Sophie to walk around freely at every island they came to. But then the Marineford photos came out. Like a dam breaking, newspapers worldwide blasted her face across their headlines. I made you famous, ducky. Welcome to the big leagues.
Granted, Sophie was a bit eye-catching usually, with her scaly burned hands and her excited twitches, but most people had the decency to avert their eyes when she caught them looking at her funny. She strode down the street, flaky red fingers out in the open, hair shorn so her weird, tight-lipped face with stark blue eyes couldn't be avoided. No one looked away. Everyone wanted a glimpse of Blackbeard's Lady Luck.
Someone was fanning themselves with a newspaper article of Sophie, a photo of her with her cherry panties, tripping over a rock. They must be running out of the good stuff to publish. Someone else, in plain earshot, said, "Shame you're not prettier in real life." When she turned her head to look, that voice melted into the crowd. Her fingers touched the collar of her boiler suit, completely zipped up to her throat, protective, baring no skin. The Alchemist, people whispered, daring to show her face in broad daylight, not looking even an ounce shameful for what she'd done. The Surgeon of Death, though, he's more respectable. Didn't you hear how he helped Straw Hat escape? That witch must have him spellbound…
Once they were out of the marketplace, Law and Sophie stopped on a grassy knoll, soap bubbles floating past them.
The bounty hunters came. Their noses flared, as if picking up her scent.
Teach had bestowed upon her, like a crown made of trash, irrefutable, inarguable, fuck-the-masses fame. What any rookie pirate would kill to have. But Sophie had never asked for it. Teach thought she was like him, but she didn't have a fame-addicted death wish. What she'd wanted most was just to talk about soap with that soapmaker. It was happening again. G-13, Lisbeth, Sabo, Luffy… now the world hated her.
Sophie dissolved into uncontrollable manic laughter. Law stared. The bounty hunters stared. Truly, it was quite deranged.
"Oh my god," she kept wheezing, "hold on, s-sorry, f-fellas, one m-moment. This is just—w-wow, this is unbelievable, this is so funny. I'm gonna w-write Teach a strongly-worded letter about what he's done. No, I'll mail him a bomb shoved into a cherry pie! That'll sh-show that bittermelon!"
Law shook her shoulder. "Don't be afraid," he said, like he was trying to snap her out of a breakdown. "I'm right here."
"Yaaargh pineapples! Is that all you got!" Sophie jumped up, arms punching to the sky. She almost clocked Law across the chin. Her feet were planted in dewy earth, not on the edge of a cliff. "I'm used to this, Capitano! I know all the secret language, the twelve steps of the program—I even turned Sabo into a friend. Hippo-sensei and Luffy made their peace with me. I'm not afraid! I'm prepared. I might be the luckiest person in the world."
She laughed again, deliriously clear-headed. She's tricked them all, everyone, even Teach. Such was her magic. "I wanna have a fun time on Sabaody! And we still need to buy souvenirs for the crew."
Letting out a quiet exhale, Law ruffled the top of her head. "They'll get mad if we come back empty-handed," he agreed.
"What did I tell you," said a scavenger at the head of the pack. "See that knife? Stole it off of Fire Fist's dead body, I reckon."
The Hearts weren't keen on Peri. It was the property of the dead. Sophie pointed out that Law had a storage room full of organs, but the others argued that it was different; a dead pirate's treasure was cursed. Well, they were right. Perihelion had cursed her. It had cursed her with life.
The only thing worse than being killed is letting the bastards think they've won.
"Every bounty hunter on Sabaody is lookin' for you, Alchemist. When we catch you, we'll sell your head to the highest bidder and be set for life."
Everything was breath, Ace had taught. Look at how the tide rises and falls, up and down the sand. The ocean herself breathes, and that is also Haki. Sophie's Observation spread out and took census of the bounty hunters, their whispering swords, their heartbeats like flames swelling and sighing.
She floated up on Arsenic, hovering above Law as he got into duelist's stance with Kikoku.
"First," she answered, "you have to catch me."
—
After an afternoon of intermittently shopping, debating which sweets the crew would like more, and reminding Sabaody's bounty hunters why they should stay very far away from the Heart Pirates, they stopped at a bar to rest.
It was a ramshackle little establishment, with a warning painted on some mossy, derelict plywood. Rip-Off? On second thought, maybe that was its name.
The bar inside was clean and well-maintained; the bartender always tidied up after she tossed out the louts who tried to squirm out of paying. Shakky was as slick and sharp as her bob, all pink-blacks and spider-prints, a tall slender figure behind the counter smoking tobacco, and she knew exactly who her two new customers were. As she put it, "My man is off training Straw Hat Luffy. Thank you for helping Monkey-chan."
"Does that guy have friends everywhere?" Law muttered to himself.
"Eh? You're Silvers Rayleigh's…?" Sophie trailed off and reddened. She looked Shakky up and down. "Oh. You seem a bit… erm… young?"
When Shakky beamed, small wrinkles creased the sides of her mouth. "You think so? Anything to drink?"
(She completely swerved the question.)
"Two beers," Law said, the same time Sophie piped up, "Do you have apple juice?"
He looked at her. Shrugging, she set down her blood-splattered shopping bags on an empty bar stool and took a seat next to him.
"One beer, one juice box, coming right up." Shakky's voice was mellow, raspy from years of smoking. It didn't match her youthful appearance whatsoever. She was also plenty experienced at putting the squeeze on her customers, and only served them after Law set down a wad of bloody cash, still damp.
"Your gratitude is evident," he told her.
Shakky pocketed the money and blew a cloud of smoke at him, which made Law cough. "You two are brave walking around here, right after the war. Everyone watched the broadcast just a few groves away." She turned to Sophie. "How are you holding up?"
"Eh?"
"The papers talked about me the same way, back in my day. Never changes." Shakky took another hit of tobacco, eyes lidded. "People get off on it, you know."
Beneath the bar counter, Law's knee knocked against hers. Sophie tapped back. Even though it was physically impossible that Shakky could see it, Sophie had the feeling their covert little interaction was fully visible to the bartender.
"Do y-you have any advice for me?" Sophie asked, flustered for some reason.
Shakky winked. "Waterproof mascara."
"Cheers." She chugged her apple juice like whiskey.
They made casual conversation in the Rip-Off Bar for a little while. Mostly Sophie and Shakky. Law listened intently while feigning cool disinterest. Sophie got the vibe that Shakky was needling her for bits of information, though she couldn't quite be sure by how disarming the older woman's smiles were. She offered Sophie a cigarette, then looked surprised when she refused. Shakky had pegged her for a tobacco girl, which seemed to be another clue to her uncanny insight, but Sophie was cutting back and rolling flower joints these days. Law watched from peripheral, easing slightly as the bartender made his crewmate laugh.
The topic inevitably shifted to the biggest piece of recent news.
"'Straw Hat Luffy Lives!'" Sophie gasped, flattening out the newspaper. "He went back to Marineford! With Jinbe and Rayleigh! How long have you had this!?"
"I was reading it in the market," Law said.
"Oh, whatever! Th-th-that's the Ox Bell!" She stabbed the photograph with her finger and looked meaningfully at Law, who just shrugged. A chance to info-dump! "It's a super famous bell that's on display in Marineford! Luffy rang the bell sixteen times. At every turn of the year, marines ring the bell eight times to give thanks to the old year, and eight more times to welcome the new year. It's out of season, but he's saying… it's… a new year."
"A new age." Law glanced at the enigmatic bartender. "Feels like a declaration of war. Did Silvers put him up to this?"
Shakky hummed and lit another cigarette.
"It must've been so hard going back to the place where Ace died," Sophie murmured, and peered closer to the photograph of a bandaged Luffy with his head bowed and eyes closed, pressing his straw hat to his chest. "What does that say on his arm?"
"3D2Y," Law guessed, though the 3D has been x'd out.
Sophie didn't reply, too busy immersed in reading Luffy's adventure. She might've been back in G-13, breathlessly absorbed in yet another Fire Fist Ace article over breakfast and imagining someday meeting him.
"Aside from Monkey-chan's and Captain Kidd's exploits," Shakky mused, "your adventures have been thrilling to keep up with. Tricking the Marines on Omiramba with the Revolutionary Army. Destroying the Spring Queen's black market on St. Poplar. Fighting Cipher Pol with Ixchel Ursa and a Big Mom pirate… and there's the matter of Cat's Eye Island vanishing right after your arrival…"
Law leaned forward, jaw set in warning. "How do you know that?"
Shakky looked gently amused. "It's my job to know. I've heard more and more rumors of a flying island as of late."
"Do you track all Supernova movements so rigorously?"
"A pirate doesn't step on Sabaody shores without me knowing they're there. Information is power."
"Gecko Moria died in the war? He seemed pretty alive the last time I saw him…" Sophie flipped through the pages. "No, this can't be right. There's no mention of all the prisoners that escaped from Impel Down. Are they trying to cover up the jailbreak? Why isn't Sengoku doing anyth…"
She lost her train of thought, because a thunderbolt of a memory just hit her.
"Gecko Moria, Impel Down prisoners…" Shakky blew out smoke. "I'll keep that in mind."
Sophie grabbed her rifle and shopping bags, and jumped to her feet. "It was nice meeting you, Shakky-san, but we should be heading off," she said, urgently kicking Law's ankles. He got up, giving her an odd look. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten about it—
"My, so soon?" Shakky sounded disappointed, as if she could tell there was more info that had yet to be squeezed out.
"Yes, sorry! We'll visit again!"
"We will?" Law muttered. (They would, to his consternation.)
"Shakuyaku-san." Sophie stopped at the door and smiled. "I'm really happy I met you. Thank you for the overpriced juice."
Shakky waved her cigarette, her gaze dark and glinting as it followed the younger woman. Perhaps in recognition of something that only retired, chain-smoking criminals with waterproof mascara and silver-haired boyfriends could see.
Sophie hurried Law forward, out of earshot from the shrewd bartender, and dragged him to a shady area by another mangrove. After making sure they were alone, she rounded on Law and said breathlessly, "Sengoku knew your Cora-san."
Law did a double-take. He did about ten double-takes in the span of two seconds.
"I mentioned you when I, ah, broke into his office. I told him you were from Flevance—you know, yet another example of a country the World Government screwed over, but since he knew Cora-san, I guess he put two and two together. I completely forgot until just now."
Law rubbed his mouth. "He never talked much about his life. But… it makes sense he'd have friends in the Marines. Teresa was one of them."
"Right, but the Fleet Admiral? Doesn't that imply Cora-san was, like, an important or high-ranking person?"
"Once we found the Ope Ope Fruit, he said he'd take me to his home. That idiot might've been talking about Marineford." A hint of a wry grin, vanishing as quick as it appeared. "Not that it matters anymore."
Sophie touched his arm. "I used to dream about going to Marineford, too," she said softly, trying to understand in her own way. "If Cora-san worked for HQ, that meant he must've been a very good marine."
"He was the best of them," Law murmured. Then he added, a bit teasing, "Thanks for finally remembering to tell me."
"I was kinda going through something," she retorted as they started walking back to the Polar Tang. "But, see, that visit wasn't totally useless."
"It wasn't useless," he replied, and it surprised her, even though she knew it shouldn't have. Law had always been like this. "If you found some sort of peace, it wasn't useless. Did you?"
"For the time being," Sophie decided, and her captain chuckled that it sounded like a threat. "At least I know Sengoku's headaches still aren't over, what with Luffy and the Ox Bell and everything."
"Straw Hat running wild and causing problems is a decent consolation."
"Hey, let's not forget about you. You were part of Donquixote Doflamingo's crew when you were a kid. You were trained by an actual Warlord. And you're connected to thee Sengoku. What are the chances? And that's not even all. You're a survivor of Flevance…" Her smile started fading. "A Supernova… you were the only one out of all of them who helped Luffy in the war…"
…Wait.
She stopped in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Law reached out. She flinched away.
Does that guy have friends everywhere? Law had said about Luffy. She had asked the same of Ace, who knew Sabo, who had fathers in Gold Roger and Whitebeard. She had asked the same of Teach, who charmed a crew full of bloodthirsty Level Six Impel Down criminals. One degree of separation from angels. She thought Teach and Ace were the only D's who had changed the course of her life, and Luffy the only D who tried to kill her.
A touch of kingliness, Ma Reets whispered.
Trafalgar Law was staring back at her, frowning, concerned. Soap bubbles floated above, and the crown of his hair was illuminated like an iridescent halo. She couldn't believe it took her this long to put the pieces together.
"Law, are you…"
She already knew his answer in her bones. But she had to hear him say it.
"…are you a D?"
—
Law called a meeting on the Polar Tang, because it was about time he addressed it. The whole crew gathered in the galley, snacking on Sabaody sweets, the undersea light coloring their perplexed faces cerulean.
Leaning against a porthole, knuckles tight, Sophie added to his brief speech about that mysterious initial. "Luffy is one. And his grandfather, Monkey D. Garp, hero of the Marines. And I'm assuming his father, Dragon the Revolutionary. Portgas D. Ace. Gol D. Roger. Marshall D. Teach. All of them could be connected to Law."
She waited for the loud gasps, the stunned shouts.
Manta punched Shachi for stealing a sweet; Shachi ducked and Uni got smacked instead. Anko raised his hand. "Can I be a D too?"
"It doesn't work like that," Law said, standing at the head of the table.
"Got it, Cap. I'm your D brother now." Anko finger-gunned him. "Glad we're on the same page."
"Is no one going to point out the most obvious joke we could make with his D," Valross said desperately, clawing at his face.
Penguin leaned in, the bill of his hat brushing Sophie's temple. "Figured Captain would tell you," he said in an undertone. "We were all taking bets on when."
She whispered back, "You guys know about Cora-san?" She meant him, Shachi, and Bepo.
"Well, shit. How long have you known?"
"Since Noctiluca Atoll. No, since earlier." She glanced at Bepo, who was nervously chewing on his paw as he watched over his captain. "CP5, on Machinastein. I heard the name, but I didn't understand it until later."
"Law doesn't share his business easily," Penguin said. "It took him years to fill us in, so I know how you feel."
Sophie had a vision of a teenage Law in the snowy streets of North Blue, huddled up around a kerosene lamp with Penguin and Shachi and Bepo. He'd tell his story in a hushed voice and the snow flurries would carry his words away on the wind.
"You saw what Blackbeard did," she said darkly, "and how Akainu killed Ace. What if some kind of danger is around Law? Doesn't this freak you out?"
"He once described it as 'the enemies of the gods'." Penguin shrugged. "I don't really care. Pirates don't ask God for blessings. Whatever he is, it doesn't change anything."
Perhaps that was also true. "How did you bet?" Sophie asked out of curiosity. "When did you think he was going to tell me?"
His mouth pursed, trying not to laugh. "Nah, we shouldn't have done that in the first place. Sorry if it weirds you out. But, for what it's worth," Penguin added quietly, "none of us bet against you."
"This conversation is devolving," Law declared, rubbing the bridge of his nose, because now the crew was debating why the D couldn't have been a cooler letter, like Z or X. "Jean Bart, I was hoping you might know something about this, with your experience."
Jean Bart was the only pirate who took this revelation seriously. "I've heard stories about the D name. A harbinger of cataclysmic destruction, or a…"
"A great evil. I've heard the stories too." Law leaned his weight forward, pressing his knuckles into the wooden table. "It was a secret kept in my family for generations, and the only warning my parents left me was to keep it hidden. That's all I know about it. Nothing else."
His eyes flashed at Sophie as he said it. She clenched her jaw. In the reflection of the porthole, Teach winked at her.
"Hey, Cap," Penguin called, "is that your full name? Is that really all there is to it?"
Shachi and Bepo immediately went, "Oooooh." Law glared, but they were his oldest friends, and they'd been with him through everything.
"Trafalgar D. Water Law," their very cool, very dangerous captain muttered, and pulled his hat over his face as laughter exploded through the galley. Sophie gaped at him, and utterly failed at stifling her giggles. There was no better bonding activity than making fun of a friend's genuinely absurd name.
Hai Xing was the only one unsmiling. "Does this have anything to do with you wanting a Warlord title?"
"You have worries?" Law said over the lighthearted heckling.
"Working for the World Government. I don't like it. My personal experiences aside, I don't want to see my captain become their dog."
The laughter settled back into silence. Jean Bart swayed a little, as if nodding.
"I need the title so we can get the Marines off our backs," Law said, clear and controlled. "I'm Flevanci; I also find the World Government contemptable. But I won't be picked off like the other crews heading into the New World. We need the freedom to move, and that means the authority of the Warlord title."
The galley looked to Hai Xing for his response. Hai Xing, the cook, the soul of the submarine if the engine was its heart.
"I see," he said simply. "If that's all there is to it, then I trust your decision. You know we would follow you anywhere."
Law's expression closed-off, seeming to go far away, as he always did he wanted to avoid a conversation he didn't like. Then he stopped. Something broke through, something new and fragile, a little painful. Sophie watched, hardly breathing.
"No," he said. "That's not all."
He told the crew about Donquixote Doflamingo, King of Dressrosa, about revenge and loved ones lost. They were both D's, but where Luffy glowed like a small sun and attracted pirates to his orbit with a careless smile, Law struggled, jaw perpetually clenched, hoarding secrets, plotting for the worst, everything in his life an uphill battle. Twenty-four and younger than most of his crew, he wanted to keep their trust. He was trying, she realized, to change. To be a wiser, more capable captain leading them into a new age.
Shachi clapped his hands, which sounded like a thunderbolt in the dazed silence. His grin was wide and relieved. "Men, if the thought of committing Warlord regicide makes anyone queasy, speak now or forever hold your peace."
In the discussion that followed, the Hearts came to a consensus: they weren't afraid of the New World, and the Straw Hat Pirates weren't the only ones that could upend an era. The Captain, You're So Cool! fanclub made their grand return. Hai Xing nodded at Law, who nodded back with more than a small ounce of appreciation. Bepo jumped on Law, practically wailing in happiness. Years and years of silence, broken in a snap. And the two joined Hai Xing where he sat with Anko, and all of them patted the cook's back.
Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo had known the whole story since the beginning, but there was no jealousy. Not one of the Hearts envied the burden they had, following their captain's selfish orders. Selfishness, too, was necessary. No pirate would respect a captain who didn't know how to steal treasure when they saw it. And anyway, he was their captain, and they loved him, and that was all that mattered.
Was it Sophie's fault for being so creeped out by that D? No, it's just that no one else had met Teach. And she was still without answers. A restless feeling coursed through her, urging her to do what she did best when she didn't know something: find out. But how? How far did this go? D's, Pirate Kings, Poneglyphs. Each a different universe, too large to fathom. In her mind she saw Ma Reets smiling. Nothing-girl.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Law found her gaze, like a flint striking fire. She looked away first.
—
In a cramped corner of the engine room, Sophie sat a pile of blankets with her bare feet braced against a pipe, going through newspaper articles of the Marineford War and writing in her journal.
She was piecing together a timeframe of her actions in the war. All this D stuff was giving her a headache, so she pushed it aside for the time being. It didn't really help, though, since yet another D man was right in front of her, mocking her with his abs and freckled smile. Not a single newspaper wrote about how silly Ace was, or how he didn't like rain, or when he gave her a ride from Idyll Island to G-13. It was all death this, Gold Roger that…
Habanero-kun, why did I sell you out—?
Sophie inhaled and dug her palms into her eyes. Sometimes it felt like she was a traitor down to her bones, heartless and incapable of love or loyalty. But that is false. Remember the truth. She pinched herself until the pain overtook the grief, until her skin bruised angrily. She had to write down what she remembered, before the papers convinced her her own thoughts weren't real. The truth was important. It was her lifeline. She had to finish writing.
Law's footsteps sounded a bit different from the mechanics'. Lighter, moving through the narrow passageways of pipes, gauges, and pistons like a fish through water. He could walk through the Polar Tang blindfolded and not stumble once.
Melting out from the shadows, he knocked lightly on the wall. "May I?"
Sophie quickly wiped her cheek on her shoulder and motioned him over. Law squeezed in beside her, taking off his shoes before sitting on the blankets and drawing his long legs up. The messy patchwork of lights washed them in amber, then violet.
He examined her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just…" She waved at all the newspaper articles of Ace lying around. Law glanced at her journal, and she closed the cover. "Not yet."
He nodded and looked up at the winking constellation of lights. "How are you? Really?"
There were a million fears, thoughts, nightmares, and daydreams Sophie wanted to confess. She shrugged.
"Are you afraid of me?" Law asked abruptly, and she almost stabbed herself with her quill.
"Don't be ridiculous, you wear a fuzzy spotted hat," Sophie retorted, and squinted at him from peripheral, trying to properly envision him as a D. He didn't look any different. Still the same malice and sharp corners. "I wouldn't have cared before… everything that happened. Are you a demon? Another species?"
"Blood samples say human. I was thinking, if we really are harbingers of evil, it'd make sense we'd gravitate around someone as luckless as you."
"That is not comforting in the slightest," Sophie said, and tried to stick her quill up his nose.
He blocked her hand and smushed her cheeks together. "Sorry."
"Mmrph."
Law had passed by the mechanics and Jean Bart to find her, deep in the engine room. Sophie waited for him to suggest they go somewhere private, but it never came. Law was still watching her, like he was waiting for her to steer the conversation however she wanted.
Self-conscious, she picked at her lightningstrike scar, the grooves dark and deep in her middle finger. "If being a D means… tragedy, or… being hated, generally… I m-might know what that feels like." Her voice was small, tentative. "Is that… somewhat sacrilegious to say?"
Law gave her a slow look and murmured, "I don't mind sacrilege."
Sophie swatted him with her book. "Stop that."
"Stop what?" he snapped.
"You know what." She pressed her book over the heart-stealer's face because she was coward, and whispered to her knees, "Ace never told me about Gold Roger. We were in the same jail cell for eight days, and he just… didn't mention it. But… I dreamed that he told me it was the least interesting thing about him."
"'The least interesting thing.' How very Fire Fist of him." Law brushed his fingers over Ace's black-and-white glare, so fiery and defiant that the newspaper itself might turn to kindling. "They should've written about him on St. Poplar. Should've taken him on when he hadn't been tortured in prison beforehand. Even at the end, Fire Fist was fucking magnificent."
Sophie lowered her book, and they looked at each other. The dusty light of a Machinastein basement lab glowed over Law. Her heart was gripped by that serene, certain feeling, just like the first time she looked up and saw him working with her, learning with her, seeing the same world she saw.
"You don't have to know everything about a person," Law added carefully, "to love them."
Sophie side-stepped the implication. She loved Ace the way she loved meteor showers, or hot baths, or long slanting sunbeams between clouds. This was different. "I think… love can only survive in the truth. I want to understand and be understood. I want it to be on purpose."
She was glad when the mechanics began banging their tools around. As if the hushed voices made them self-conscious, too. Half their crew was right there, their shadows moving between the spaces in the pipes. They weren't on an empty beach and Law had been acting… strange ever since she got back. More open, and more… certain. No, she was getting her silly hopes up. He was the one who said this couldn't go any further. Friends, they'd promised each other. Had… he come to a new decision?
Law let out a small huff of a laugh. "Well, then," he said, leaning back, closing his eyes as if he was in no rush at all. "If you have any more questions, ask them. I'll tell you the truth as best I can."
…Does this mean you—
"Shameless ducky." His breath puffed behind her neck. "Being so happy while poor Ace is dead."
Sophie yanked her gaze to the corner. No gap-toothed leer or big-moon eyes. Only darkness. The photographs of Ace smiled, flames as bright as the sun. Be fruitful. She leaned in close to Law so no god, spirit, or demon would overhear, and whispered her question into his ear.
Law opened his eyes, the dark gleam in there dancing. "You don't care that I'm a D?"
"You are so much more than a dang letter," she countered, because she guessed she loved him, or whatever.
His answer required no words.
She missed kissing Law. She missed the scruff of his mouth and the smell of his soap and his lean calloused hands whose express mission seemed to be the cataloguing of her form. He found her bald patch again and ran his fingers over it, as if he couldn't get enough of her imperfections. Pressed against the metal pipes, she felt the reverberations from the mechanics shuffling around, and from the vents came savory smells of Hai Xing cooking dinner in the galley.
It got too much when his tongue licked between the crack of her lips, which threatened to lead to events Sophie wasn't ready to do. (Or redo. Yet.) She tipped her head back, their mouths separating, gasping for breath. In her hazy vision, all she saw was Law, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. She was glad she couldn't see how much she was blushing. She must've looked ridiculous.
Around the corner came an exasperated, "Fucking finally."
—
Koby was setting down a small pinwheel by the memorial when he saw her: a marine wearing hot-pink, heart-shaped sunglasses.
He hobbled up on his crutch, nearly stepping on the clutter of South Blue sea hibiscus and North Blue prayer beads and West Blue sake bottles. It was a sharp, shocked movement that should've alerted the other marines that something was wrong, but the scant few around were absorbed in their silence or tears.
He had limped over to the memorial after waking up in the medical unit. It was better than sitting on a cot all day, raucous marines flirting with nurses and Helmeppo off to help with the reconstruction and Garp having rushed away to East Blue and Dawn Island right when the war was over. So Koby stood at one end of the marble by himself, tired-eyed, wondering if it was normal to feel so old at sixteen, until his fledgling Observation pointed out a presence beside him.
They were both a long way from St. Poplar.
"You," Koby said.
"Grapefruit-kun," the Alchemist greeted. The sun was high and her standard-issue marine hat cut her face into long, dark shadows.
"W-w-why are you—why—" Koby's first battle-traumatized instinct was to consider how fast he could break her neck, and if anyone would be harmed in the process. She could be wearing bombs under her clothes. She touched a name on the marble. Koby recognized it. A high-ranking marine, killed by Blackbeard.
"Do you know Tashigi?" She ran her finger down the names. "She's a swordsman in the White Hunter's company."
Ensign Tashigi and Captain Smoker. Garp had greeted the East Blue marines during war formations, Westers to the left and Northers to the front. "I, uh, saw her in the, um, training grounds earlier," Koby stammered. She'd been beating up a wooden dummy. "Are you here for her?"
"No, I've reached my decapitation quota for the week." The Alchemist patted her neck. "But I'm glad to know she's alive."
Decapitation quota…? Wait, more importantly, she had come back to mourn people who had thrown her in prison and tried to kill her? She must've walked into Marineford Town, right out in the open, passing by countless soldiers. She was a pirate! An infamous pirate! Why was she so confident she could blend in? Was she a complete idiot? Was she insane? Koby's brain was overheating with the effort it took to make sense of this situation.
"I promise I'm not here to do anything crazy, like ring the Ox Bell one hundred times. Just wanted to say goodbye." She looked up at the wooden skeleton that held up half of Marineford Castle. Her sigh was wistful. "'The eternal fortress bends to no enemy, not to violent waves nor the jealous sun…'"
It was a famous poem among marines. And only a marine would recite it with such reverence.
"Hey," she said, "what base are you from?"
Koby tallied all the rules he was breaking right now. "The… the 153rd Branch in East Blue, before Garp-san… b-before I came to the Grand Line."
"153rd? Wow, you a country hick or something?"
Flustered, he didn't respond. The closer marines were to G-1, the stronger they were. He knew she used to be 13th. Hexhead.
"They say backwater Easters are like sheepdogs," she teased, slipping into a soldier's warm drawl. "Nice, well-fed, and you roll over easy."
"You t-talk like a Grand Liner," Koby snapped.
"I am a Grand Liner. Ain't no seagull meaner than us, brother of my brother."
It was a language he heard everywhere on Marineford. This was a former marine standing beside him, paying her respects.
"I'm just messing with you," she added quietly, sincerely. "On that day, you were more righteous than heaven. Saved more lives than anyone."
Seized by some abrupt emotion, Koby grabbed her hand so fast he nearly tripped over his crutch. "I r-r-read about you. After St. Poplar. Your work for the World Government. It's awful what the papers are saying about you, like they've forgotten about all the good you've done. For marines. And marines are also—we're also from all over the world. We're not a monolith. We're all just trying to do the right thing."
He couldn't see her eyes behind her shades, but her nose dripped. She wiped it on her arm. "There are more orphans in this world because of me."
"No," Koby said defiantly. "There are less."
She covered his hand with hers, and held him like that for a moment. "You wanna be a pirate? Do a little traitoring of your own?"
"Please cut that out."
"You sound uncertain, Grapefruit-kun. I sense an opportunity."
A strong breeze spun the East Blue pinwheels, plastic windflowers coming alive with a whirr.
"I'm still recovering," Koby said, "but I'll be better tomorrow."
She pressed a finger to her lips, secret shared, and wished him fruitfulness.
The Alchemist left, fixing her hat, and passed by a taller, blonder marine who was carrying two trays of steaming hot food. "Koby! Been looking all over for you! Come on, rations arrived! I got us the first pick!"
"…Huh? Ah, thanks."
"Stop spacing out, man," Helmeppo tutted. "You're gonna miss something amazing one day."
—
A marine came with a fresh bushel of alfalfa for Sengoku's goat. His office on the highest floor was in tatters, one entire wall destroyed by the last of Edward Newgate's great earthquakes. The sound of ringing construction filled Marineford Castle, boots stomping everywhere, marines shouting as they lugged wooden beams up flights of stairs.
There was no need to recap the great mountain of work awaiting the Fleet Admiral upon his return from Mary Geoise, except to say that he'd gained a new habit of inspecting the faces of Marineford's secretaries and warily sipping the cups of tea they passed to him. His days were numbered now; his own doing. He was coordinating with staff to announce his resignation to the world. Between that and Straw Hat's stunt with the Ox Bell, his headaches were endless.
It was here that she found him, as he had been waiting for her. The marine set the alfalfa by his bleating goat, patted it, and saluted Sengoku.
"Back again, you pugnacious roach," Sengoku said.
The marine snickered and pulled off her hat and sunglasses. She gave a little twirl and posed flamboyantly, flashing a peace sign. "You spotted the Great Chemist Subterfuge Sophie quick this time, jii-chan!"
"I was expecting you this time." Sengoku rose from his desk, his long, braided goatee a dark slash in front of his uniform. They sized each other up, post-Whitebeard and Blackbeard, post-intolerable losses. Sengoku was fighting not to hunch over in jaded weariness, but she, after Impel Down, after the Marineford War, had spun her bruises to gold.
Silly disposition aside, this child managed to trick him with nothing but his assumption about secretaries and a poisoned drink. It helped, of course, that she was exceptionally suited for infiltrating Marineford. Sengoku approached this calmly. She was a crewmate of Trafalgar Law's. A significant crewmate—he had leaped into oncoming fire to rescue her.
"Tread carefully," Sengoku warned. "Impel Down is ruined, but we have other prisons."
Sophie tossed a newspaper on his desk. Though the World Government technically had no affiliation with the World Economy Newspaper, it was hardly a secret that they bribed them and fed them favored news. The Alchemist spotted on Sabaody Archipelago. Eyewitnesses describe a slattern so desperate for fame that she'll roll around with any pig in the…
Sengoku flicked the garbage away, disgusted that he even had to touch it. "You ask me to stop this? The world owes you no kindness."
"If only I had some wicked bloodline like Luffy and Ace that you could pin the blame on." There was no anger in her gaze, only curiosity. "You spread lies about me instead. If you mock me, will people find me less scary? A World Government traitor, but she's a joke, no need to worry."
Sengoku reached for his cup of lukewarm tea. He swished it around before taking a sip.
"Consequences. I get it." Then she went on to her true purpose: "What I don't understand is the jailbreak cover-up."
Sengoku deeply disliked the stab of approval he felt. If Garp were here, he'd be applauding thunderously. Thank god for small mercies. Sengoku watched her study his tense body language, his tight glare, and come to the naïve conclusion.
"…You didn't give the order," she said—sighed, almost.
"I am following it," he corrected, like a teacher rapping on a chalkboard. Pay attention.
Still, she remained composed. As if finally understanding they were playing shogi with all the moves predetermined. But that didn't stop her—as if she'd done this dance before, with another marine, another old man. "'If we can't fix what's broken, we will only move in circles. We will never be able to move forward.' I loved that speech."
The victory speech Sengoku gave following Ohara's annihilation. One of his finest ever, the historians declared.
She fluttered her fingers, like sprinkling magic. "You say the word and reality shifts. All that power, and you can't disobey one stupid order?"
Reality, Ohara, power. The last time she was here, like a fool, she declared she knew the truth. And now she was throwing it in his face again, as if the goal wasn't simply to know information, but to wield it as a knight wielded a blade. Sengoku stepped forward and the traitor nimbly danced back.
He towered over her, seventy-seven, ornery, built like a mountain of bricks. "Tell me what that punk Trafalgar is planning."
"Let's trade," Sophie taunted in his shadow. "Tell the truth and then resign."
Sengoku threw his head back and laughed. Here were some truths: One, every ranked marine who knew about the cover-up was too ashamed to meet his eyes. Two, even Kong refused to talk further about it. And three, nothing this angry young woman had ever said had been false.
"You must do better than that, child," Sengoku chided, and grabbed her by the shirt.
The standard procedure was to break a few ribs to incapacitate and bring her in for questioning. Sengoku had never deviated from the script before. But today, he had tendered his resignation. Like a rag doll, he yanked her off her feet and dangled her over the gaping latticework of construction beams and metal nails. Her rifle clattered against her back and her eyes brightened in the light of a clear blue sky. Letting her fall from such a height would be as easy as dropping a soft plum.
"If you kill me," Sophie said over the wind, "Trafalgar Law will never talk to you. Not about Rocinante-san or anything else."
It was in Sengoku's view that emotions were a dereliction of duty. He'd broken Garp's nose to stop him from ripping apart his grandson's killer. Garp, who was ensnared by his own heart, who committed the greatest sin of loving pirates. "You presume I am threatened by that."
Sophie winked. "I know marines, brother of my brother."
And she was right. Sengoku admired her calmly, accepting his defeat. Alchemist Sophie, truthteller, sister of his sister. In another life, he would've been proud to hear her slyly call him Gramps.
"But. If you don't kill me, Fleet Admiral, I am never going to stop harassing the World Government. I still believe in a certain kind of justice."
"And that is?"
She pointed up at the sky, like an oath to God. "We all must face the consequences of our choices."
"Indeed," Sengoku said, and let go.
Sophie fell one hundred meters down Marineford Castle. She would hit concrete hard enough to splatter.
Sengoku fixed his glasses. His office, silent again.
Then a shooting star exploded upwards, the wind roaring, blasting paperwork into the air and searing the top of his afro. Sophie spun in a dazzling circle on a magic broom, whipping up a mini-tornado and blowing a raspberry. Along one of the tri-barrels of her floating rifle, beside the glowing five-pointed star, gleamed the words Astra Arsenic.
"My captain says hi! Be patient, Gramps! You'll meet him one day soon!"
A glimmer flew out of the castle and looped above a secluded garden. A man in a rumpled white suit was lying there in the shade. Admiral Aokiji lifted his sleeping mask and met her eyes. And because she wasn't dreaming of an easier world, the glimmer took off and left Kuzan searching the clouds alone.
—
A week later, Fleet Admiral Sengoku and Vice Admiral Garp's retirements were splashed across the World Economy Newspaper's front page.
New leadership for a new age, blah blah blah… maybe he grew a conscience after the cover-up, but Sophie didn't flatter herself and believe it was her doing. Sengoku was retiring from active duty and would step down once they found a replacement. It better be Aokiji. He put her in prison, but he was also the only Admiral with common sense. Garp was less surprising. Not much else you can do after watching your comrade burn your grandson alive in front of you, huh.
The Hearts crowded around Law and jostled to get a look. A rose petal cigarette wiggling between her lips, Sophie stretched her arms up to the sun and watched them. Their silhouettes against the glittering blue sea. They could've been sitting on a Machinastein rooftop, a ragtag pirate crew that no one's really heard of yet. They were still sitting there, in some way, only their family was larger now and a tad more infamous.
"Here it is!" Penguin yanked out a pile of dusty-grey posters and thrust them in the air. "New bounties!"
Law gained twenty million for his role in the war. Now he was at 220,000,000. An excellent number, in Sophie's opinion. And Luffy, that seventeen-year-old isoprene monkey, was up to 400,000,000 now. How ridiculous! Just because he was a bit flashy during the war! …Fine. A one hundred million bump was the very least Luffy deserved. He had a lot of work to do before catching up to Ace's five hundred million bounty. Better train hard, Straw Hat.
"Oi, where's mine!? Check again!"
"I told you you're not in here!"
A peeved Anko snatched the bounties from Penguin. "I helm the submarine, ya rascals! I escaped Kizaru and Aokiji! Give me my glory!"
"You can have mine," Sophie called, making a census of the pelicans soaring above. Four… no, five dozen heartbeats…
"Alright!" Anko victoriously pumped his fist. "Tell Sengoku we're trading! I want sixty mil!"
Sixty was her most recent, pre-Sabaody bounty. Her first bounty after burning G-13 was an eye-boggling fifty million, but ever since then, it only climbed a miniscule amount. The World Government deemed her a bumbling traitor scientist without any noteworthy abilities, aside from her massive brain. Her captain, the Surgeon of Death, was the real threat. Sophie was fine with it. Supernovas aside, sixty was on the higher end of rookie pirates. Three score, highly composite, adjacent to two primes. Lovely.
"Wait a minute," Shachi said suddenly. "Here's Sophie's new number."
The Hearts leaned in and chorused, "Pineapples."
"Tch." Anko grimaced, looking queasy. "On second thought, I'm good. You can keep it."
Shachi squinted at the poster. "Dude, why do you look so sweaty? You're oozing like a puddle of jelly."
"I think she's normally sweatier," Bepo disagreed.
"Well, it is quite hard to tell the sweat from the snot," Penguin interjected.
Sophie blinked as she was dropped beside Law in a pop! of blue. He swung his arm over her shoulders, and she squeaked as his face got waywayway too close!
"How," Law snarled softly, grinning, "are you going to answer for this?"
There was something Anko had said to her, a long time ago as they sailed from Toa Sang Bay. You and Captain are always looking towards the horizon. She rolled her eyes at him then. He just looked out at the sea and said, You don't see it yet. But you will. The power of prophecy didn't belong to D's alone.
The Worst Generation was initially made up of eleven Super Rookies with bounties over one hundred million. They had fought their way through the first half of the Grand Line and arrived on the Sabaody Archipelago as Supernovas.
After Marineford, Blackbeard joined them, pushing that number up by one, to twelve.
And Sophie, former Hexhead, made them thirteen.
—
STRANGWAYS SOPHIE
THE ALCHEMIST
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
BOUNTY: 260,000,000
—
to be continued
notes: keen-eyed readers will notice this chapter title is a direct parallel to chapter twenty-nine's "yet so much more will be waiting". thank you guys for sticking with me during this long wait! i wanted to have law properly address the doflamingo drama on-screen. i'm tempted to say that in canon, it was probably not a secret among the hearts, but obviously mnp was still being written during law's great backstory reveal. for fic coherency's sake, i decided to go with the "yeah, it was law's (and penguin, shachi, and bepo's) secret, but it's also not really a big deal, let's get doflamingo's ass" route.
next chapter... will also be a long-awaited one for the roomboom fans. /hehe
catch ya next time!