Mandatory apology for the long wait goes here. Usual excuse of life getting in the way also goes here. The good news is that right now I'm on vacation from one job and I'm quitting the other one in a week, so I should be able to get back to the updating schedule from before July.
Besides, I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot like I did in the previous arc, so I mapped out everything that I want to happen in this one to make the next chapter easier to write. I will inevitably deviate from the plan, delay the chapter and curse myself until I manage to update, but that is accounted for in the plan, too.
Also, another mandatory apology because I don't think this chapter reads very well alone, but I hope it will be better once the new plot starts rolling.
And as always, you can find me and my writing woes along with some extra stuff at tackyink dot tumblr dot com
Jag: Thanks! And sorry for not updating sooner. Things have been though since September.
Guest: I don't plan on stopping! Though I can't tell how long the wait between chapters is going to be. Usually it's one per month, two months since this summer, but as I said above, I expect to go back to normal soon. Thank you for reviewing!
Guest-22: If you think your review was super late, I don't know what you'd call this update. /author sweats nervously/ And you guessed right! Barcelona, specifically.
It's so relieving to hear that you think it was well handled – I was so nervous after posting the chapter that I posted a rant on tumblr to get off my chest everything that bothered me while I wrote it. I was afraid that I hadn't built enough of a connection between the reader and Banu for what happens at the end, and I'm glad to know that it worked for you. And sorry about the cliffhanger! I didn't think it was so bad because we'd seen them when they were, um… Rescue? Well, you'll find out in this chapter. And about Law. Are there feelings? Really? WHO KNOWS (…I should…).
13. Absence makes the heart grow wearier
(Sail away sweet sister)
From that day on, Saki was the one who picked up the newspaper every morning. That was the only change in her routine.
She'd open it as soon as she got it, search for the list of survivors, leave it on a table in the mess hall, and head to the galley to make breakfast.
The first morning that she did it, at the crack of dawn, was the day of their departure from Qaryn. She stepped onto the main deck, and on one of the ends of the bay, she saw a crowd of people standing on the shore. So many people, young and old and solemn, all staring at a raft that a small group was finishing to prepare for its first and last travel. It seemed as if most of the island's inhabitants were in attendance. Banu was at the edge of the main group, watching from afar, with Onur by her side. Even in the end, she hadn't been allowed to come closer to say goodbye.
Saki thought in anger that it wasn't fair, and it surprised her, because she had long ago given up on finding fairness in life.
When the raft was ready, an elderly man carrying a torch set it on fire, and the ones closest to him pushed the raft into the water.
The currents dragged it to the center of the crater as the flames became taller and the smell of burning wood started to fill the air.
Saki didn't know for how long she had been watching when the door behind her opened and Law walked up to her. She hadn't mentioned the ceremony the day before, so chances were he had come out for the newspaper and found himself staring at a surprise sea burial.
"I had wondered what they did with their dead," Law said as a manner of 'good morning'.
"Banu said that it was supposed to be symbolic. Children of the Mother coming back to the Mother." She tucked behind her ear a strand of wavy hair that the breeze kept flinging to her face. "Kind of creepy if you ask me, but I may be a little biased."
"Religions tend to cause that impression when you don't follow them."
"Do they? Then I guess the murder attempt has nothing to do with it," she said flippantly, and then more seriously, "Details aside, it's a nice way to send off someone."
The flames towered into the sky by the time that the raft was completely engulfed by them. The bay was in dead silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the waves of the sea and crackling of the fire.
"Yeah." The smell of burned material became stronger. "I'll never get used to this smell."
Saki looked at him curiously. "You can go inside now." She passed the newspaper she was holding to Law. "Here you go."
Law hesitated for a split second, and instead of taking the newspaper he asked, "Any good news?"
"Not yet," she said. 'Yet' was the keyword. 'Yet' was the word she had to repeat to keep a resemblance of hope. "When are we leaving?" She asked, changing the subject without any subtlety.
Law didn't seem to mind. "Before noon. If you need something from the town you should go as soon as the market opens."
"To be honest, I'd be happy not to set foot on this island again. I think I'll do just that."
"A sensible decision. Who are you and what have you done to my crewmate?"
"Rude. Don't you have anyone else to nag at this hour?"
"No."
"There you go." She shoved the paper at him with a smirk and, deciding that keeping on watching a burial that didn't even matter to her wasn't the best she could do for her peace of mind, she walked to the door and stopped before taking the first step down. "And thank you for keeping me company yesterday," she added without looking at him, then turned around to say, "Coffee will be ready in five!" and closed the door behind her, not giving Law a chance to reply.
—
A light. There was a light blinding her, but it wasn't the warm light of the fires, it was cold and white and it didn't flicker.
It took her a few more seconds to realize that she was breathing through a mask and she was on a bed. She had a headache. The light was hurting her eyes. Where was she?
Take.
She jerked up from her position, sitting up and lowering the mask. In doing so, she rattled all the tubes connected to her (why were there so many?), made herself dizzy, and startled a machine that had been beeping softly but now cried loud enough to wake up an entire neighborhood. The headache got worse, and she hid her face in her knees and covered her ears with her hands in an attempt to keep the light and noise away.
Take. The fire.
Something tugged on her sleeve and then she heard the unmistakable sound of her brother crying. She looked up, and Take was there, leaning on her bed and holding onto her hospital gown as if she was going to disappear.
"W-what—?"
Her voice was hoarse enough to scare her further, and he didn't get to give her any answers before the door to the room burst open and at least four people came inside, some with white coats, some that didn't look even remotely like doctors.
And… the girl. The pretty girl with the orange hair and ruffled skirt was in the group and moving towards her really fast with a smile, and putting her hands on Take's shoulders—
Without thinking, Tsubaki's hand shot forward to grab the girl's wrist. "Don't touch my brother," she rasped out, and, judging by the girl's unfaltering smile, failed to sound intimidating.
The girl placed a hand on top of Tsubaki's own said soothingly, "Don't worry, we won't take him away. He can stay here, but the doctors need to give you a checkup. You've been out cold for days. But you can move, right? That's good!" The girl grinned widely. "Take told us how you got him out of the fire. Do you remember?"
"I…" Fire. Smoke. Screams. Shots? Running, the waterfront… "It's blurry."
"Typical symptom of carbon monoxide poisoning," one of the men in a white coat said. "Matches our diagnostic so far."
"Great!" The girl said, "Then I'll sit here with your brother while the doctors to their job. Is that okay with you?"
Tsubaki supposed that she was, but she didn't know what to say to this girl she had only known for less than five minutes before she started talking to her as if they were longtime acquaintances.
The girl suddenly smacked her own forehead at the sight of Tsubaki's confusion. "Oh, silly me, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Koala, Fishman Karate assistant instructor for the Revolutionary Army, and you are in one of our transport ships, currently heading to Baltigo." She grinned again. "We met the other day in Asteria. Do you remember me?"
Tsubaki nodded dumbly and tried to process what she had just been told, but her mind refused to cooperate.
"Good! Then I'll explain everything later. And you have nothing to worry about. You and Take will be safe here."
—
Marina had spent an entire week in Asteria, helping the locals, before the real relief efforts came and she could head back to the Lymes base with her unit. She didn't want to, but after an extra half a week and her fellow captain avoiding her all through it, she complied and took her men with her.
She knew that her superior officers would be angry at her, so it didn't surprise her at all when the repaired Den Den Mushi in her office rang, not ten minutes after she had stepped inside, note to self: there may be a mole among us, and the stern voice of Commodore Curtiss greeted her upon picking it up.
"Marina."
"Commodore."
"You know why I'm calling."
"I would rather hear it from you, sir."
The man on the other side of the line sighed. "Captain Marina, you are getting a transfer to G-11 along with the entire unit that accompanied you to Asteria." Marina took a breath to reply, but the man left no room for interruptions and continued. "And if you try to argue in any way, someone, somewhere, will make sure that you are demoted to Warrant Officer and keep that rank for the rest of your career."
Feeling a stress headache setting in, Marina stared at the receiver with enough intensity to set it on fire. "Commodore," she said composedly, and it took a lot of effort, "my men were only obeying orders. I request that you do not transfer them. Going to Asteria was my decision and I alone should be the one to shoulder the responsibility for it."
"Then you should have thought about them before giving your orders." There was no hint of mercy in the man's voice. She hadn't expected it, either. "You made the call, and they will have to face the consequences of your rashness. Your men are your responsibility as much as the civilians in your area. Note that I said 'your'." Curtiss sighed on the other side, and said in a more relaxed tone, "Akainu's smoky pants, what possessed you to sock a colleague in the face?"
That had an easy answer. "He deserved it, sir."
"…Why did I even ask." The man groaned on the other side. "I am not doubting you, but you knew how shaky your position was already. You need to learn to keep your temper in check."
"So I've been told several times."
"Yes, by me. And you still don't listen." His voice became harsher, but his words did not. "Marina, you have a week to get everything in order for your replacement. You and your men will get the official notifications soon, but I thought you could use some advance notice."
"I appreciate it, sir."
"You better. Why am I always stuck with the problem kids?"
Marina smiled wryly and muttered a quiet thank you. The Den Den Mushi, who had been sweating bullets expecting another smashed receiver, rested easy when the captain put down the receiver delicately. Marina placed her elbows on the desk, intertwined her fingers, and rested her chin on them. The framed picture of Marineford on the opposing wall stared at her mockingly. It had been inherited from her predecessor, who had sat on her current chair for twenty years straight, maybe literally, given how worn down it was, before getting a transfer to headquarters. Marina had managed one year, and she couldn't say her butt had been in contact with it for long during that time.
Marina liked to see things in black and white. Good and bad guys. Good and bad actions. Fairness for all who worked hard.
Her brother, for instance, up and left one day. He didn't tell them until he was with one foot out of home. He didn't write. He abandoned her. So it was only expected that he shipwrecked and got stuck in the Grand Line with no way back home. That's what happened to people who didn't do things right.
Marina had done things right. She had gone through her school years with brilliant grades, and that trend only continued at the naval academy. She worked twice as long and three times as hard as her companions. She got noticed. She was promoted fast. She had built a successful career before thirty because she believed that she could, and that she would help people on the way. And now, it was helping people what had put her job in jeopardy.
Helping the people of Asteria has been the right thing to do. What was she supposed to do? Ignore the trail of the smugglers? Turn around once she saw that there were none left in the destroyed island? Punching a coworker may have been on the morally grey side, but still. She was being punished for doing the right thing, of that she was sure. It wasn't just. And when one literally worked for the side of justice, that thought was a bitter pill to swallow.
Perhaps she would have been better off working as a ship engineer, but Marina had never been able to stay still and sit down for long. Which brought her back to the worn down chair her predecessor had left her in her soon to be vacated office.
Maybe she'd do better in the Grand Line. Someone where she wouldn't be watched by hawks all the time and she wouldn't be made responsible of an entire sea's worth of Marines' failure to stop the pirates that each month trickled into the Grand Line through Reverse Mountain.
The chair creaked under her weight, and for the first time since she had inherited her office, she peered at the picture of Marineford with doubt and a little bit of disdain.
But despite her internal turmoil, Marina couldn't deny that she was glad to leave Lymes behind for good. She leaned back on her chair and wondered if her brother had felt the same when the opportunity to get away arose.
"Howe, Philip," Marina casually asked the two men she knew were outside flanking her door, "how would you like to see the Grand Line?"
If she somebody was really opposed to go, well, she could rewrite a few documents. No one high up had to know how many soldiers had actually followed her.
—
Law closed his eyes and concentrated on expanding to its limit the dome that his ability created, then released it. Bepo was with him, right at the point where the blue area stopped, and the sounds of his rustling through a box of old medical journals were the only ones in the training room.
Still without opening his eyes, he heard Bepo throw one in the air, and he used the sound as a cue to create his Room and switch the journal with a dumbbell near his foot. As it hit the matted floor loudly, Bepo threw another paper, and this one flew farther. Following the sound, he tried to reach it with his ability, but the dome hit a blunt stop as it expanded, and the paper completed its trajectory to the other side of the room. It hit the floor louder than the dumbbell. Somewhere in that situation, there was a joke to be made about the weight of academia in the modern world.
Law opened his eyes to see that he had missed by a foot. A gap that he could close with less than half a step, and it could be the difference between life and death.
"Your reaction time is getting slower," Bepo informed him. "We've been at this for an hour. You should rest."
Law felt sweat building up on his temples, cold, the bad sort that happened when his stamina bottomed and he needed it the most. If he couldn't push himself now, when he was safe, there was no telling if he would be able to do it when he actually needed it.
That man from Qaryn hadn't meant anything to Law, but letting him fall to his death when he should have been able to prevent it was eating at him, if only because he had helped when Saki had gone missing and it was only luck that none of the crew had been the ones to fall.
"Not yet." He could feel his muscles cramping.
"I think there's a hard limit," Bepo said, closing the cardboard box and sitting on it. He sunk in it until the journals inside stopped him. "And you will not get over it if you overwork yourself."
"We can't know if I don't try. Just a little—"
"You're the captain and we need you alert at all times. I won't allow you to fall unconscious training. Because that's what happens when you push yourself too hard. Remember?"
Law didn't know how to handle a contrarian Bepo, particularly a contrarian Bepo, armed to the teeth with arguments, and who had been with him for long enough to know exactly what to expect from him before he did anything. He rarely got like this, usually only when Law was being unreasonable, but this time he felt perfectly justified in his reasoning. As he always did. Until he cooled down and thought it better.
All right, maybe he was being a little unreasonable.
"It was pretty bad that Jerkface died, but these things happen," Bepo said, making use of the Law-mind reading capabilities he had developed over more than ten years.
Law took off his hat and mussed his hair in an attempt to dry off the sweat. He didn't care that the man had died. What bugged him was his lack of skill to stop it. He tried to divert the subject. "Did you get that nickname from Saki?"
Bepo nodded. "It caught on with Penguin and Shachi too. I think it's fitting."
The corner of Law's mouth quirked up. "Yeah."
But Bepo didn't let the breather to continue. "We are tougher than him, so don't worry. That won't happen to any of us. And if it does," he looked away momentarily, and then shrugged, "I don't think anyone will regret it."
Law retaliated to this massive attack on his innermost thoughts that he didn't even want to entertain – how dare he – by flinging his hat at his friend and switching it with the journal near his feet at the last second.
Bepo caught it in the air. "This means I win," he said with a glint in his eyes.
"Wow, Captain, is this how you treat your subordinates in private?"
The scuttle to the lower deck had opened and Saki was poking out of it, leaning on the floor with half of her body hidden. She was standing on the ladder below.
Law gave her an unamused look and she grinned.
"Why don't you use the door like a normal person?" He asked.
"Because I'd have to take the loooong way around." She made a circle motion with her index finger to accentuate the 'loooong'.
"There's a door to the lower deck."
"Still longer."
"It's scenic," Bepo said.
"It's a waste of time, Fluffy."
"Aren't you wasting time now?" Law asked.
"Nope! Well, right now I am, but that's because you're distracting me with things that don't matter." She shot a half-hearted glare at him. "I just wanted to check if Penguin had told you about the tattoo he wants."
"Ah, you mean the one on his arm? Yes, he asked me first. Why?"
Saki's face suggested that she didn't know if he was asking to make her waste more time or he was sincerely dense. "I don't copy someone else's work without permission. I have morals, you know."
Law raised an eyebrow.
"Professionally inclined morals. And on the same subject, I wanted to ask if you'd let me work in the sickbay this afternoon. It's not like I need to be there, but it'll be more hygienic."
"As long as you don't move anything around. Wouldn't want his arm to spontaneously fall off."
"Good decision," she gave him a thumbs up. "Anyway, I'll leave you to your business."
"You don't need to look at the tattoo first?" He asked a bit surprised.
Saki blinked a couple of times and wiggled her eyebrows. "Are you coming on to me, Captain?"
"Are you drunk?"
"Never drink before work. Except when I do."
"Right."
"It's not like I haven't seen it plenty of times, but I guess it won't hurt." She stretched her arms and then pushed her body up to the training room. "Okay, let me see," she said as she walked up to him.
Law lifted his left forearm towards her. Saki eyed it suspiciously, gaze lingering for a brief moment on his fingers. She frowned. Law felt a small surge of satisfaction and smirked, very proud of himself. She gave him a tired look but took the arm anyway, bringing it a little closer, and leaned to look at the ink with an expert eye.
Bepo observed the silent exchange from the box with critical interest.
"Why couldn't you let whoever did this ink your fingers too?" She complained with a grimace.
"I was young and irresponsible. It was another time."
Saki snorted. "Sure it was. I'd be crying myself to sleep if I were you. I don't know how you can laugh about it."
"It gets easier every time you complain about them."
Shaking her head, she let go of his arm like it had a contagious disease. "I've seen enough, thanks." And she walked to the door muttering 'shameless' to herself.
"You left the scuttle open," Law called right before she went out.
"I'm taking the scenic route to get rid of the bad thoughts."
She closed the door with a click.
Law turned around to try again to convince Bepo, but he found his friend staring fixedly at him.
Feeling strangely unnerved, he asked. "Is something wrong?"
Bepo blinked slowly a couple of times. "No. Nothing."
"Then what is it?"
Bepo tilted his head. "Did something happen?"
"Such as?"
Bepo didn't reply right away. "Nevermind."
Law would have insisted, but annoying Bepo was counterproductive to his plans. "If you say so. Can we get back to training?"
Bepo frowned. "No. Go take a shower and sleep."
"You don't need to be here if you want to go, I can… Bepo?" The bear stood up and began to approach him with a serious face. "Bepo. No."
"It's for your own good," he said in a paternalistic tone.
"Bepo. Bepo!"
Bepo spread out his arms and ran towards Law. Law, in turn, ran towards the scuttle.
Polar bears were faster than they looked.
—
Sometime after Trafalgar Law had been caught by his navigator and forcibly thrown and locked inside his quarters, in the sickbay, Saki held up the stencil she had been working on so Penguin could give his approval.
"Is this okay with you?"
He inspected it for a good minute, with Shachi looking at it close by. "I don't see any difference with Captain's."
"That should mean I did it right. Hold your arm this way, I want to check if it fits." Saki placed the stencil against the skin and adjusted it until she made a pleased sound and turned to the tray where she had placed everything she'd need for the tattoo.
"Penguin, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Why wouldn't I? I even shaved my arm," Penguin said seriously. "That takes a serious commitment."
"Shachi," Saki said, now busy cleaning Penguin's arm and applying a roll-on on it, "if you keep nagging I'll tattoo your ass in your sleep."
"No you won't!" He exclaimed, and his sunglasses slid down his nose a fraction. "I would notice!"
Carefully, Saki placed the transfer paper on Penguin's forearm, making sure it didn't wrinkle, and pressed it against the skin. "Is that a dare? Because I don't want it to be a dare, but…"
"No?"
"Thanks," she peeled off the paper and told Penguin, "Is this alright with you?"
He inspected the design on his arm and grinned. "Yeah. I'm ready."
She smiled. "Perfect. Now you," she said to Shachi, "take a couple of steps away, I don't like people breathing on my neck while I work." Then she said more seriously. "Okay Penguin, put the arm on the mattress and try to relax." She took the tattoo machine from the tray next to her and turned it on.
The paper on the cot creaked under the weight of Penguin's arm. Shachi gulped. Saki did her best to ignore him.
"I'll do the outline first and then fill it in. We can stop if you like once the outline's done, or we can finish it in one sitting. Depends on you."
"It's fine, you can do it all today."
"Of course I can. Doesn't mean you do. It's your first tattoo."
"Better get it over with in one day if I can. If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have told you to do it."
Saki smiled up at him. "That's the spirit. I hate people who don't think their tattoos through and later want them fixed."
A tense silence filled the room until Penguin muttered, "Uhhh…"
"Captain doesn't regret a thing," she said blandly, and Penguin nodded sympathetically. "That said, it's okay to ask for a break, so do it if you need it."
"Yes, ma'am."
Saki put herself to work. She took one last glance at Shachi, and he looked far tenser than Penguin. Penguin, on the other hand, watched with interest as she started to work and the line began to appear on his skin.
"It's bleeding," Shachi pointed out.
"Tattoos bleed," Saki said, wiping some of the blood that was dripping out with gauze. "Are you okay, Penguin?"
"Peachy."
"It doesn't hurt?" Shachi asked.
"Rock hippos were worse."
Saki prided herself on having a steady hand when she almost laughed. Geometric figures always took more precision than artistic drawing. They weren't her first choice whenever she did a design, but a job was a job, and the fact that she didn't like it as much as other types of drawings didn't mean anything as long as she could do it well.
Besides, it may not have been her personal preference, but she had to admit that the design was aesthetically pleasing.
By the time she had finished the outline, Shachi hadn't spoken again, which actually made her more uneasy than his constant quips, and when she lifted the machine and her eyes from the tattoo, she saw that the color of the man's face had drained from his face.
"Shachi," Penguin called.
"Y-yes?"
"Maybe you should sit down," he suggested.
"Maybe you should leave and lie down. Or just lie down on a cot," Saki said, fearing that he wouldn't make it outside.
He opened his mouth to reply automatically, thought better, and said without much enthusiasm, "Maybe you're right."
In other circumstances Saki would have thought that the lack of resistance meant that he was on the verge of death, but she knew how sick one could feel when needles were involved. Freaking needles, making her feel sympathy for Shachi when she could've laughed at him. But she didn't, because she knew how bad it felt. Losing control of your own body over something inoffensive was the worst.
She didn't get why watching a tattoo machine at work could make someone dizzy, though. They were great. They weren't anything like those other needles that went through muscles and vessels and ugh, she was getting queasy and she didn't want to think about it while she worked. But the point was that tattoo guns were the work of the gods. Mostly painless compared to traditional tools, making getting the tattoos more hygienic, and her lines more accurate and neat. What was there not to love about them?
"You want to keep going?" She asked.
"Sure. It isn't as bad as they make it out to be."
"Nothing will be as bad if you compare it to the rock hippos," she joked.
He grinned at her. "Aren't I lucky?"
She switched the rounds on the machine and fixed her stare on Penguin's arm again. "This might bother you more than the outline, though."
"Do your worst."
She grimaced. "No, you don't want me to do that. And neither do I."
He shrugged. "Then do your best."
"That I can promise," she said, and she turned the machine on again and started working.
"And the other arm tomorrow?"
"That too."
—
Marina wasn't fully aware – scratch that, she had never wanted to be – of how hard it must have been for her brother to leave until she had to do it.
She still told herself that he abandoned them because he wanted to, but she was different. She had been transferred. Her actions were justifiable.
She knew that she should have gone inside the inn to say goodbye, but she didn't want to. And Marina, awfully honest as she was, didn't want to do something she'd feel bad about. Not in a moment like this.
Just imagining her mother trying to convince her not to go, and the locals joking that she would never marry was enough to make her feel physically ill.
So instead of walking in, she did the next best thing in her mind, which was deemed as such because it was the only thing that she could see herself doing without risking a nervous breakdown. The feelings of self-hate were going to follow her anywhere, anyway. At least she would avoid the drama.
Before the sun rose over Lymes, she went to her old home and dropped a letter in the mailbox. That was her farewell. She was aware of how much of a hypocrite she had been regarding her brother, then.
She just couldn't face these people anymore. Her brother had simply reached his breaking point earlier than her.
She looked at the inn one last time, watching the old sign she had helped his brother install when she was little and she had learned how to make circuits for the first time. The few lights that survived the recent storms flickered weakly, casting intermittent shadows behind her.
It was for the best. It had always been. She understood that now.
—
Two weeks after Law had shown Saki the news of Asteria, the newspaper stopped publishing the list of survivors.
She skimmed over the issue three times in case she had missed it. She hadn't.
Although she had known that this was the likeliest possibility since she had read the first list and found no trace of her family, although she had tried to steel herself for this moment, the confirmation tore her inside.
If she hadn't left the island. If she had just sat down quietly at home and waited to die. If she had insisted more to the old man so he took a boat with the kids and never came back to the island. There were too many ifs and every single one of them made her responsible for what had happened. The fire hadn't been a coincidence, it couldn't have. The remains of the smuggling ring had done it to destroy evidence. And what better way to do it than burn everybody along with it? She should have seen it coming. But she hadn't, and this was what her lack of foresight had brought her.
Once again, Saki wasn't used to think about the future.
She folded the newspaper and walked back inside, heading to the mess hall with heavy steps. Moving when she had woken up at the Mother's shrine had felt easier.
She didn't get it. How was she able to put herself in constant danger and still come out fine when people who hadn't done anything kept dying around her?
She put the folded newspaper on the table and walked into the galley to work on crepe batter. It would do as a distraction.
She tried not to sob while she worked. Don't think. Don't think. Just keep moving.
Not long after she had begun cooking, the sound of tired steps signaled Law's arrival to the mess hall, and he walked to the door of the galley to see what she was doing. Noting the first appearance bowl of batter since the day they had left North Blue, he asked, "Are we celebrating anything?"
"Yeah," she said with a strained voice, trying to sound happy and refusing to look away from what she was doing. "We're alive."
She heard Law pick up the newspaper right away, but she didn't turn around to look. The rest of the crew appeared in the room shortly after, and he didn't say anything to her for the rest of the morning. She didn't talk much to anybody, either, and she stayed that way for the next few days.
—
In a well-travelled place of the Grand Line, where industry literally boomed and tourism consequently flourished, lay the Island of Coconuts, with capital letters, or Coco Island for short, because the island had an older, more dignified name, but if you mentioned coconuts to anybody with a business sense, they'd know the place you were referring to.
As a general rule, pirates didn't have great business instincts if business didn't involve Marine-related destruction and general chaos, so the only previous info that Law had gathered about their destination was that it was a summer island, safe enough for pirates to dock as long as they didn't do it in one of the fancier ports, and that local trade was somehow tied to coconuts.
In any other part of the world, a factory explosion big enough to blow up thousands of coconut trees and scatter all its contents over the island and up to the sky would have made the news across the entire sea, but this was the Grand Line. Something bigger had blown up two islands over on the same day, probably, and very likely in an intentional fashion, so instead the accident had made it into a corner of the sixth page of the newspaper. A local entomologist, who had been taking pictures of the local bees at the moment of the explosion, was very disappointed that his picture of a coconut-mushroom cloud wasn't published alongside the story.
Way before the Polar Tang got near enough the island to dock, a strong coconut odor began to permeate the air. As the submarine got closer, the Heart Pirates saw that it wasn't pearly white sand what lined the shores of the island, but coconut flakes.
When they stepped down on firm land, Shachi adequately blurted out what everybody else was thinking.
"What the hell is this place?"
Bepo appeared to be having a hard time since they had entered the island's range. He was covering his nose with a paw and there were tears on the corner of his eyes. "Smell… too… strong… it's hot…"
It was, indeed, hot, and for a bunch of North Blue natives and a polar bear, a wonder that it had taken over ten minutes with those temperatures for one of them to complain.
It didn't come as a surprise that Bepo was the first one to do so. Saki would bet that the next one would be Shachi or Penguin with their stupidly practical boiler suits (not that she was still bitter about being caught in the middle of a storm in Lymes, while they were in waterproof suits, that would be silly and petty).
"Newcomers?" A sailor working on the vessel next to the submarine asked.
Standing on the docks like idiots, looking around, wiping sweat from their foreheads and smelling the air had probably given them away.
"Yeah," Penguin replied. "What's with the coconut everywhere?"
"A processing plant exploded a decade ago," the sailor said solemnly. "Nasty day. Everything's been like this since then."
"Oh. Thanks."
The man shrugged, picked up a crate and made his way onto his ship.
"One less mystery," Law said, unfazed. "First we should find somewhere to stay." Bepo sniffled, and Law gave him a worried look. "And we should be on the lookout for interesting people. You need a hand with maintenance, right?" He asked his mechanics.
Shachi pointed accusingly at Bepo. "You filthy snitch!"
"We're managing fine, Captain!" Penguin said. "But, uh, some help wouldn't hurt," he admitted.
"Our girl's becoming too much for just us two to watch after her."
"You know what you need better than I do," Law said with a shrug. "Keep an eye out and tell me if you find someone who can help."
"Roger."
"Right, then… Bepo?" Law frowned upon turning to his friend.
Both his paws were now on his snout, and his voice came out muffled. "I want nose plugs."
"It isn't that bad," Shachi said. "Smells tasty."
"That's because you're nose-impaired," Bepo said, irritated.
"I'll have you know that my nose is very regal and perfectly functional."
"If that was true you'd change your deodorant."
"W-what do you mean by that?"
Bepo sniffled and looked away from Shachi haughtily.
"I don't smell!" He turned to Penguin, "I don't, right?" Penguin gave him a shit-eating grin, so he tried with someone else, "Saki?"
Saki had until then been ignoring the conversation for two reasons, mainly: one, because she didn't feel like being around anybody since she had received the bad news, which was pretty tiring considering she lived in an enclosed space with four other people. Two, because coconut flakes, unlike sand, floated on the surface of the sea, and she was engrossed by the amount of them on the water, swaying with the waves like white petals. Edible petals. Which meant free food. And free food was good, especially when she was in charge of it.
"Someone's in her own little world," Penguin pointed out.
"Do you think those are sweet or salty?" She asked quietly, more to herself than the others.
"Don't let her," Law warned, and began to walk towards the city.
Penguin and Shachi's eyes met for a second, and they moved in unison to take her by the arms and drag her away from the edge of the water.
"I-I wasn't going to jump! Who do you take me for?"
"A madwoman," Shachi said with a grin.
"Let go, you assholes!"
To Saki's misfortune, she was short enough for them to be able to lift her up by her arms, so they walked into the main district of the city making a happy scene.
—
The inn the Heart Pirates decided on was kind of dingy even by Saki's standards, especially after Onur's, but the price was fine and a nicer place might have brought them unwanted attention. At the entrance, there was a chalkboard that announced in shaky letters, 'COCONUT JELLY NIGHT!'
"You've come on a good day," a young receptionist said while she looked for their room keys under the front desk. "Tonight we'll have our old cook in the kitchen. It will be noisy, but I promise it will be worth it! He works at the casino restaurant nowadays—that's how good he is! Ah," she resurfaced, golden curls bouncing, "here they are. Your rooms are on the second floor. Sorry in advance if you find the view a bit lacking. You've seen how packed buildings are in this city." And she smiled widely.
Shachi and Penguin, absolutely enchanted with the girl, looked on the verge of drooling if she smiled their way again.
"Now, for the registry…" She opened the book on the counter, looked critically at the Jolly Rogers on the guys' clothes, and after thinking a bit wrote something that to Saki looked suspiciously like 'Falafel Low,' 'Marshmallow A,' 'Marshmallow B,' 'Cutie,' and 'Christmas'. "That will do. Here's a map of the city," she handed Shachi one from the stack to her right and he flushed. "I'll be going inside now. If you need anything, just ring the bell."
"Wait," Bepo said. He was feeling better indoors than near the beach. "What's the setting time for the Log Pose?"
The girl smiled wider and looked up at the polar bear like the mechanics looked at her. "A week. You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you need." Bepo didn't look happy at the news, but the girl still said, "Have a nice day, and see you for dinner!"
—
Outside, Saki approached Shachi silently from behind and whispered into his ear. "You have no chance."
He shivered and jumped away from her, rubbing his ear like it was dirty. "Shoo! Don't do that!"
She lifted her hands. "Just saying she likes them taller and hairier."
"She just thinks he's cute," Penguin said. "Like a teddy bear."
"Yeah. Besides, who did she give the map to, huh?"
"If that helps you sleep at night..."
"I am here," Bepo sniffled, sounding miserable, "you know…"
"We know," Law replied, and took the map from Shachi's hands. "Next order of business?" He said to his crewmates.
"Don't look at me," Saki said. "The pantry's well stocked and we shouldn't buy perishables until we're about to leave."
"Our front's taken care of too," Penguin said.
"Bepo?"
"Can… can I get a face mask? I want to go back to the inn."
Law stared at his face with concern. Bepo's eyes were puffy. "Sure. Will you be okay?"
He nodded and rubbed his nose with a paw. "I just want to be indoors. It's hot, too…"
Bepo waved them goodbye and headed to their inn, just around the corner.
"Poor dude," Shachi said.
"Don't be so soft, he said that you smell," Penguin replied.
"But I don't."
"And he's going to steal the girl," Saki added.
"Will you drop it already?"
She folded her arms and looked away, absently running her right hand over her tattoo and observing the distribution of the buildings. It reminded her of Asteria, though the construction looked more solid, and everything was decidedly more tropical. It didn't look like any of the images pictures she had seen of summer islands, but she guessed they only chose the pretty ones for books and left the working neighborhoods out of them. She was starting to think of good angles to draw, maybe find a high spot that overlooked the city, when she remembered that she hadn't even finished Qaryn's and had no one to send it to. A rock dropped inside her stomach. Bepo would still want the drawings for the logbook, though…
Shachi's voice gave her an excuse to think about something else. "Maybe we can do something when she comes back to the real world."
"Sorry," she said forcing a smile. "I was just looking around."
"Welcome back," he ribbed again. "Do you want to go somewhere?"
She thought for a moment. "I'd like to see if I can find a tattoo shop to restock some supplies, but it won't be urgent until someone makes up his mind," she wiggled her eyebrows at him.
"Hey," Shachi complained, and Penguin wiggled his eyebrows at him too, and though the effect was lost under the shadow of the cap, his friend seemed to get the message. "Hey you too."
"I'll go with you," Law said to Saki. "I'm curious about—"
"No," she cut him off.
The other three looked at her strangely.
Still, Law had an idea of what had prompted the sudden refusal. "I hope you have a more convincing argument than that."
Saki's eyebrows twitched. "You know what the argument is. I won't say it out loud. I'm just asking that you do not spread your shame onto innocent people."
Law smirked as he casually cracked his knuckles, and the other two got what the conversation was about right away. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Saki knew there would be no way to convince him. "At least keep your hands in your pockets."
"I'm not promising anything."
Penguin cleared his throat nervously. "Well, now that that's settled we should get moving."
Law nodded at him. "See you for dinner at the inn," and he passed them back the map.
"Aye, Captain."
Saki supposed that if she had to feel mopey around other person, it was lucky that Law was someone she didn't have to give explanations to. She didn't want anybody's pity, Law didn't seem to be treating her differently from before, and that's how she wanted it to continue. There was no point on dwelling on what had happened, even if she kept thinking about it day and night, even if she felt like dying every time something reminded her of her family.
But of course, he had to go and do the exact opposite thing of what she wanted.
"How are you holding up?" Law asked after the others were out of hearing range.
She wasn't expecting the question now. He could have asked her at any other time before arriving to the island.
"I'm fine," she said with a smile, avoiding his eyes.
"You always are," he replied blandly.
"I am."
"At least look at my face when you're lying."
Saki's smile dropped and said a little disgusted. "Why do you have to be so difficult? I'm trying to make this simple for everybody. Just ignore me, you've been doing great until now."
"Since you didn't mention anything, I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
She clapped her hands and said very fast. "Well thought! I really, really don't, because talking about it will make me think and I'm pretty sure that you need a cook and not a walking human mess at this time, so let's just do as if nothing happened, find a pharmacy for Bepo, and I promise I'll do my best not to space out from now on. Deal?"
Law looked as if he wanted to say something, but he took a glance to the busy street they were on, and in the end he just sighed quietly and put his hands in his pockets, looking slightly dejected. Well, to be fair, he was frowning as always, but she could tell he wasn't happy with her reply.
Saki felt guilty, but she ignored it and took a tentative step forward. "Let's go?"
"Yeah," he said, falling into step with her and looking forward. "As long as you remember that whatever your duties are, you are allowed to be sad."
She stiffened at his words, but it didn't seem like she was looking when he did. It clicked in her mind then that maybe it hadn't been lucky that she was stuck with Law for the shopping trip. That maybe he had done it on purpose so she didn't have to keep faking in front of the others.
Or maybe she was reading too much into it.
"Thank you," she said anyway, avoiding looking at him just as much as he was. "I mean it."
"No problem."
"For putting your hands in your pockets," she added.
Law did a double-take, and after her words sunk in pulled his left hand out of his pocket and threw an arm over her shoulders like he had done in Indent Bay.
"Noooooo," Saki complained.
"You brought it on yourself."
"The shame never ends," she said, defeated. Even if the touch was strangely comforting.
He let go soon, though, because when they passed a specialty shop that was giving out coconut bonbon samples, and Saki being Saki, sad or not, she had to go and taste them.
Maybe she wasn't at the top of her game, but she managed to charm out of the shopkeeper a few more samples for the guys.
—
Law and Saki got far earlier than dinnertime to the inn, much to Bepo's relief, who looked like Christmas had come early when he was presented with a box of extra-large surgical masks. He didn't want the bonbon.
As dinner service approached, the noise level at the inn started rising, and by the time Penguin and Shachi were back, the dining room was booming with people. It was on the small side, and it was obvious that tables and chairs had been added for the occasion, because half of them didn't match and some were so close together that the staff had trouble moving through the room.
The receptionist, who doubled as a waitress, waved them over to a table and tripped against another waiter who was making a beeline for the kitchen. She was back in a moment at their table to hand them the menus.
She looked as enthusiastic as earlier. "Tonight's specialty are lasagna and, of course, the jelly for dessert! You know what you want to drink?"
When the girl left after taking note of their orders, Penguin sighed dreamily. "She's an angel. A customer service angel."
"Aren't they all?" Shachi agreed.
"She is," Bepo agreed. "She let me into the cold storage room earlier. This island's too hot."
Two people on the table glared surreptitiously at the bear.
"Is that even legal?" Saki asked.
"No," Law said. "But we're pirates."
"Do we really want to be above food-safety laws?"
"Who was looking at the coconut flakes on the water, again?" Shachi said.
"Shut it, Marshmallow B."
"Sure, Christmas."
Thankfully the waitress was back with their food before somebody had the great idea of calling their captain Falafel.
Dinner passed without incident (other than a sneeze from Bepo that made the people at the nearest table jump), but by the time the waitress was bringing their desserts, many of the customers had left, the most of the waiters had been dismissed for the night, and only a scarce few tables were still occupied.
Little did the Heart Pirates know that someone in the room had been watching them during the entire dinner, and was still doing so.
"The coconut smell was starting to turn my stomach out there, but this is really good," said Penguin, shoveling a spoonful of jelly in his mouth.
Bepo sniffed Penguin's dessert suspiciously. "Can I have some?"
"Why don't you ask your girlf—"
A loud crash on the other side of the room made everybody turn to look at the kitchen's door.
"NO CUSTOMERS ALLOWED!" A voice boomed.
The waitress, clutching a tray to her chest, ran towards a man on the floor, apparently knocked out by a battered pan that was still vibrating near him. "I told you not to bother him!" And she proceeded to fan the unconscious man with the tray. "Oh my, oh my…"
A fork flew out from the kitchen and embedded itself inches away from the man's hand, on the floorboards.
"Felicia, don't let any drunks in," the same mysterious voice from before said.
"Sorry! I'll send him home right away!"
She didn't have to say anything else for two men to get up from a table, put a few bills on it, and go to lift the man by his arms and legs.
"We told him not to," one said to the girl apologetically.
"Oh, no, no, don't worry! Just be careful on the way home!"
The man was carried out while his friends muttered curses, and some of the customers left laughed before going back to their meals. Felicia laughed nervously and resumed picking up the dishes from the empty tables.
When she came near the Heart Pirates, Law said to her, "Someone in that kitchen has really good aim."
"That's Mack!" She smiled. "He likes to say that the raspberry syrup on his jelly is actually the congealed blood of his enemies."
Shachi's spoon froze on the way to his mouth, Penguin started coughing, and the rest just kept eating. Saki wondered about the recipe and how she could copy it.
"Aaaah! It was a joke!" She exclaimed, mortified, and fanned Penguin with the tray as she had done before with the unconscious man. "I'm so sorry!"
Penguin just waved at her while he coughed and fought for air.
"He's saying he's fine," Shachi translated.
"Oh… okay…"
Then another table called Felicia, and on her way she tripped over the fork stuck on the floor, saving the dishes she was carrying with a belly flop that only a person who was more acquainted with the ground than she had to could have acquired. Saki sympathized.
Felicia then fought with the fork for a long minute until she decided to leave it for later. Whoever was in that kitchen was in possession of an amazing throwing arm.
—
White beaches. A fragrant aroma. A luxury complex built around a small lake with milky-looking water. And many, many coconut trees. That was what tourists looked for when they went to Coco Island.
The complex was in its own secluded part of the island, strictly separated from the industrial sector. If you looked out from one of the balconies of the several hotels there, the only things you'd see would be crystalline water, luxury cruises and white beaches.
Meanwhile, a city for the less fortunate stretched behind the complex. Employees of the coconut factories and the facilities in the complex (always expanding past its current borders) lived there, going on with their ordinary lives right next to opulence they'd never personally know. There were hotels, coconut themed spas, a casino and high-end shops so the tourists only needed to go out of the complex to step on the island's pristine beaches.
All of this continuous expansion could only be supported by an iron rule. The Commercial Association of Coconut Affairs ruled all coconut related matters and extended its tentacles anywhere it could reach. And at its head was a man who managed everything.
President Carpus was forty-seven years old, and the younger brother of the owner of the factory that had exploded over a decade ago, turning Coco Island into a fruity summer paradise. He had never liked his brother much, and he was relieved to have their parents' inheritance all for himself. With a keen business sense and little scruples, he was the man who had transformed a tragedy into the island's saving grace. The citizens admired how well he had handled his personal loss and made it to the top despite the tragic circumstances. In turn, he admired the landscape of the island that he was helping renovate from a luxurious office on the fifteenth floor of the CACA's headquarters.
Still, dangers loomed everywhere, and not even he was exempt from them.
Said man had to look away from his shiny, golden-framed windows when somebody knocked on his door.
He took a moment to right his meticulously curled hair and moustache before saying, "Come in," with an affected tone. He stood as straight as he could to look taller.
What must have been the plainest man in existence walked inside the room. Grey slacks, light blue shirt tucked in, brown thinning hair and a surprisingly nondescript face. He was the kind of middle aged desk worker that you saw on every commute to work and made your eyes simply glaze over him. He was undetectable in a crowd, and completely unremarkable and inoffensive-looking when alone.
Carpus, since he had the soul of an accountant neck-deep in balance sheets at the end of the fiscal year, didn't believe in ninjas and flashiness. That's why he had chosen Bob. He was the perfect spy.
(He didn't remember how he was called, so he referred to him as Bob. Bob didn't mind as long as he got paid. Or maybe Bob was, by some sort of divine coincidence, his actual name).
"Sir," Bob began in a high pitched-voice that could have belonged to a prepubescent girl. It didn't detract from his ability as long as he didn't speak much. "I have located the pirate crew you asked me track down. They are staying at Arnold's."
Carpus' face remained blank. "Who?"
"At the coconut jelly inn," he clarified.
"Oh, that joint," he said stiffly, and he made a dismissive gesture with a hand. "Well, I am not going there. We'll extend them an invitation. Tell my secretary and she'll take care of everything."
"Yes, sir."
"Good job, Bob."
Bob bowed and left the room, but he might as well not have, because before he was out, Carpus had his hands clasped behind his back and was looking through the window again, at the resort that he had built, and that that woman was trying to take away from him. Not for long.