she who raised us

by Kishiqo

no one ever talks about her but without her these boys wouldn't have grown into who they are now. she is a mountain bandit and she never expected to be a mother but she refuses to back down from a challenge. even if the challenge is two feral boys and a babe that knows no fear.

1. 1

dadan knows garp is on his way, long before the old goat enters the eastern sea. the hair on the back of her neck tingles and the charm laden walls, each one carefully crafted by the tyke that garp straddled her with all those years ago, smolder the closer the marine gets to her house.

ace had smiled the first time he had brought one of his creations home, saying he had learned it from the boy in the walls. dadan had mounted it onto the wall with a grumble, failing to hide the pride in her eyes. since then, the boy would come home with a new trinket, each one created with the help of his friend in high places.

frankly there was not a bare spot in sight, meticulously covered in beads, horse shoes and what she assumed to be garlic. dadan grew accustomed to switching them out for ace's latest work, rotating between old and new. organizing it perfectly so not a single bead was out of place.

they were bandits but they prided themselves on being exact, if they had a job to do nothing would be out of order.

something that seemed to greatly amuse her charge, catching the boy holding in a laugh each time they recited their oath.

and when garp comes knocking at her door, she does not blame ace when he dives out the window boots clutched in his hands and his socks clinging on by pure luck. if she were younger and did not carry the responsibility of her gang, she might have joined him. but alas she was not, so she braced herself and greeted the loud man.

her eyes stray to the bundle in the marine's hands, sweat forming in her palms. the last time garp visited her with a death grip on an innocent bundle of cloth, she did not sleep for close to two years.

'absolutely not!'

garp laughs, careful not to jostle the babe, a feat considering how the man always laughed with his entire being. he laughs all through her protests, laughs through dinner and laughs through the drinks they share, never spilling a drop even as he shakes uncontrollably.

and he laughs when he pushes the bundle into ace's arms. his smile strains as he says his goodbyes, eyes lingering on the squirming babe.

his arms feel empty for the first time in months and his heart aches without a second beating heart to accompany it. and if tears streak down his cheeks when dawn island falls behind the horizon, well. no one has to know.