He realized much later than he preferred (and not for the first time) that he shouldn't be so relaxed. The phone call by all intents and purposes had gone pretty smoothly. Ryū had honestly half expected to somehow be clocked through the den-den. You really learned what was possible, when dealing with Garp, and Ryū wasn't comforted by the state of his reality. (After all, being in a dream just meant whatever crazy thing he could imagine Garp doing likely would. He wasn't ready to jinx himself that badly. It had been an act of preemptive safety procedure, blanking himself of all thoughts of Garp immediately after the call ended.)
"You know," Ryu started, biting the bullet, "I'm kind of surprised Garp didn't recognize me."
Maybe it was the question. Maybe it was his tone. Maybe it was that he was so taken aback that he stopped eating– but all three boys immediately turned to look up at him. "Isn't that… what's supposed to happen?" Sabo asked hesitantly.
As far as he was concerned, the fact that Garp didn't recognize Ryū was a great thing. He had honestly wished Garp hadn't recognized him either. If they ever met the guy in person— and Sabo was pretty convinced they would at some point, he was still visibly having trouble processing that anything that had been involved in raising Luffy and Ace could be a marine— he would know instantly that Sabo didn't know him.
Maybe he wouldn't recognize him at all. "It's not like he knows you?" Something about that made him wince and he wasn't even sure why. (He recognized my voice, in the call. He laughed, and wasn't angry, and didn't yell at us. Even a marine cares more about my dreams than my parents did.)
Ryū didn't ask him. Sabo hadn't yet gotten a firm enough grasp on what would really hide what he thought. Someone less experienced wouldn't have noticed, but to Ryū his discomfort showed clearly on his face. Will have to tackle that later. That look is never a kind one.
The more pressing issue was still– as always– Garp. Occupied with his thoughts, he just hummed as he absently kept eating. Right. He wouldn't know me, would he? This is not my Garp. This is Dream Garp, Past-Dream-Garp, so...
It was... surprisingly uncomfortable to think that by all intents and purposes he was a stranger in Garp's eyes. It wasn't a reaction he expected out of himself. He had barely thought of Garp with anything more than anger and grief since Ace– since–
He had just stood there and watched Ace die. Crying could never make up for that. What were some tears, compared to the blood that his brother had spilled? Ryū couldn't hope to forgive him. He couldn't even consider it, couldn't let forgive and Garp cross the same thoughts without needing to break and burn. The heat always flared up in him so easily when he thought of Garp.
(That same fire was… surprisingly absent, now that he thought about it. He hadn't felt even a lick of flame during the call. Maybe it was because having Ace, even in his dream, soothed his grief, but– Ryū couldn't help but feel like he had been cheated, somehow. Like a wick deprived abruptly of air.)
(Maybe Ace forgave Garp. The idea only made Ryū want to either laugh or cry, and neither one was going to exist without the other close in tow. He didn't have time for hysteria. Not with three little brothers all relying on him to be the mature one.)
He barely called the old man Grandpa as it was but now that slip up could really cost him.
It still didn't explain why he wasn't recognized at all though. Maybe not as family, but as a criminal? As a dangerous revolutionary, who all but kidnapped the man's grandkids and ran off to teach them piracy? Ryū doubted that there was no government awareness of him at all. Even if they were still in the East Blue. No, that makes no sense. Even in a dream, shouldn't he– "You three said my name, over the phone call," He reminded them. "He knows my name, knows I'm with you three– any description the marines must have fished up for us should match up for him. Garp should be aware of who I am, even if it's not as his grandkid or the revolutionary." He should know something, anything. "There's no way I, at least, don't have a bounty already set for me?"
"We wouldn't know," Ace said truthfully, face twisting in confused unease. Besides Luffy, none of them looked comfortable with the idea of the government feigning ignorance– but Ace looked sick.
Ryū stopped pressing. This wasn't a concern he should be sharing with kids. Even monster children, who could take down tigers on their own and last against him for at least a few minutes. Was he really that bad at this? He didn't exactly interact with a lot of the children, who stayed with the army, and even then they had all been leagues ahead of normal children in maturity–
(Maybe if he just thought about it all hard enough, the Koala in his head would smack him for it until it made sense.)
With the sight of islands in the distance, the topic was easily dropped.
The town was half a wasteland. Ryū could feel the people there. Enough to exceed the tiny town of Fushia twice over. But they were all huddled and silent in their houses, as if the outdoors were a death sentence. He half expected to find the windows all boarded up.
(it was a sight he was used to. It was discomforting to see it so soon. They hadn't even left the Blues.)
The dock was even worse, somehow. It was clearly in use– the wood well worn. Even for a small smattering of islands, the harbor was absent of ships. No trading vessels, no people– not a single sign of activity. No fishing lines or cages waiting to be sunk. Not even any pirates. Not even a tiny rowboat for a lone fisherman. All that was left were fraying ropes attached to the various rotting moorings. All the signs of people without any of use.
The boys didn't seem to question it at all. It wasn't as if they were around many towns, and this one wasn't like Fuschia or Goa. Maybe they took the silence for the standard. Ryū was silent as they leaped off the ship, crowing excitedly as their feet hit the old wood. Always so excited to see land, to explore even such a ghost town–
Ryū could almost call the atmosphere itself foul.
(It's the blood, he knew instinctively. The stench of old blood stains and gunpowder, the salt of the ocean– the intrinsic knowledge that something wrong had happened here.)
"Don't stray far," Ryū warned, and near immediately the auras of the boys shifted. Their posture went unchanged, smiles the same, conversations just as energetic. But Ryū could almost taste the way all three of them seemed to immediately sharpen. Attentive and wary, movement halting and gazes darting back towards him with every stride forward. They could handle themselves, and do it well– Ryū had made sure of that– but something about this place made his blood boil. Until he was sure why, he wasn't going to let his guard down.
Not with three very, very irresponsible little brothers. If he was going to deal with a scale as broad as a bar fistfight to a kingdom's revolution, it was going to be on his terms. Or at least as close to that as he could. Being a Grandline Veteran wasn't always enough to guarantee control even in the East Blue.
They had barely stepped onto the soil. Barely even left sight of the dock, before the hair at the back of Ryū's neck was prickling with the pressure of a stare. Now that he was within better sight of the town, it was easy to see that some people weren't in houses. Or at least, these weren't.
More than one, He confirmed, Two, no, three, one of them is armed–
Ryū froze.
–Two of them are children.
Luffy's head snapped up. Without prompting, his eyes seemed to settle on the direction Ryū was openly watching. The two little auras closed in on them, closely followed by an increasingly frenzied adult. Sabo and Ace, at his heels, rapidly darted looks between Ryū and the distance he was staring at– the one Luffy was now staring at himself with an expression intensely out of place for their youngest brother. "Ryū? Lu?" Ace broke the unintended silence, tone betraying his anxiety. "What's–"
Ryū missed whatever Ace said next. It was weird, to be so on guard outside of the Grandline but there was no ignoring training and instinct drilled into you. The atmosphere, the paranoia– it was unignorable.
The two smaller children were tugged out of their warpath towards them by the adult. Ryū only allowed his fingers to twitch, but not reach, for his pipe, as an unfamiliar and scarred man stepped out from around the bend of a street corner. Normal human, as far as Ryū could tell. Fairly unremarkable. Just a man as wary of Ryū as Ryū was him. He could respect that.
"...You shouldn't be here," The man said, and Ryū wondered where they had screwed up this time. For once his brothers hadn't even left his sight yet to cause trouble. "If you get caught with those pipes, it won't be pretty. New people aren't taken well."
By Who, exactly? As if reading the look on his face, the little red-headed girl peeked out from around the man to glare at him. Even firmly situated behind him, he could see her straining where the other little girl was no doubt holding her in place. As if she was more than prepared to scrap with a fully grown, armed man. He could respect that too, though Koala would smack him for it. "You shouldn't be here," She hissed, parroting the adult. At his side, Ryū nearly startled to feel Luffy's distinctive aura burst with sudden awareness. As if his entire being had zeroed in on the little girl. "We don't want more people here."
She seemed to look through them, almost. Gazing out past them and at the ocean with a scowl as if the waves themselves had wronged her. As if any moment now, she expected something horrible to climb dripping out of it to attack them. The anger in her eyes wasn't for him. Not the anger, nor the fear; and there was fear.
So, so much of it.
(Blood on her hands, staining even through the bandages. The beginnings of thick calluses, on the exposed tips of what should be child-soft grass-stained fingers. Circles, under those defiant eyes. Things that could be hidden by Ryū's keen eyes, even under false bravado and behind the stern legs of a clear father figure.)
Ryū did not like what he was seeing.
He was really beginning to doubt it was the village that was the problem. "We're not here to cause trouble. Is it okay if we sit and talk about it somewhere safe?" Somewhere out of sight, out of view. It was clear just by the way the three refused to step out into the open road that there was something no doubt watching them. Clear that whatever they feared, on the islands, wasn't something they could do more than run and hide from.
Ace, Sabo, and Luffy, unmoving at his heels, were unnaturally silent. Sabo and Ace had quickly picked up on the inherent wrongness of the town. Ace was surprisingly the one to shift just a little closer– Ryū shouldn't have been as shocked as he was, to see Sabo just tighten his grip on his pipe and square his small shoulders. A memory loss could never change that natural indignation, it seemed. Luffy hadn't lost that intensity. He stood unnervingly still, watching the trio with something like–
No, not the trio. Just the girl.
(She stared back with nearly the same intensity. A more confused, restrained version of it, and yet there was no discomfort setting her spine. As if their mutual interest was something natural. As if she recognized Luffy, from somewhere, somehow.
It was impossible, but maybe not in a dream– maybe she wasn't as much a stranger as he was considering her. His subconscious had to have dragged her up from somewhere, even if he wasn't immediately recalling. Just another little mystery for Ryū to put on the backburner. He could almost taste the answers. Could feel them like a little tickle, at the very back of his throat, like a word he knew and just couldn't remember. It was incredibly infuriating and incredibly not what he needed to focus on right now–)
The man grunted. The girls blinked up at him, taken off guard when he waved for everyone to follow him back down the little back-way. "Name's Genzo," He murmured, "I'll take us somewhere quieter." The two little girls exchanged a look before staring at Ryū, an act he noticed (with only a little amusement and a lot of concern) mirrored his brothers at his hips. A standoff of suspicion half his size. Sabo and Ace both grabbed a fist hold on his coat. Neither moved until Ryū did first.
Luffy was already darting ahead. Moving without looking back, for once, as if he had caught onto the smoke trails of a meal he knew he couldn't miss.
(No, not quite right. That didn't adequately describe whatever Ryū was seeing— what he wasn't sure he understood— of a gaze so utterly fixated with recognition that Ryū was left on the edge of his wits, on the tips of his toes and a name on the back of his tongue and nowhere in his mind.
Where had he seen that vibrant orange hair before?)
Ryū took off after the three strangers, his grip tight enough on his pipe to dent his fingers into the metal.
He should have known. Was he the chief of staff for nothing? Intelligence was a part of his job and yet.
"What?" Nami snapped, glaring at him. "Stop staring at me."
I'm too tired for this.
Great, now everyone was staring at him. Except Luffy. Luffy was still fully focused on his future navigator– and fuck, how had he seriously not realized? His littlest brother may as well have slapped him with it and he still didn't put it together. He had no idea how Nami even managed to appear like that, considering that the youngest he had ever seen her was in her earliest bounty posters. Maybe his subconscious had just slapped a random child with orange hair into his dream and given it her name.
Sabo tugged discreetly on his sleeve and Ryū's eyes snapped down to his brothers. Oh. I'm still staring.
"...My bad," he finally muttered. "You reminded me of someone I know."
Not technically a lie. This Nami wasn't the Nami he had met. No one, technically, was someone he knew. Ryū needed to just... bank on that. Channel it until the association was broken along with the awkwardness– adapt, reduce suspicion. He didn't know this child. It wasn't a lie.
The child turned with a huff, that familiar vivid hair flying with her, and Ryū took a deep breath. He didn't even bother to stop Luffy when he ran outside after her.
It's not a lie.
Genzo didn't take his eyes off Ryū to watch them go. Neither, he noticed, did Nojiko.
Ace, at his hip, nudged at Sabo. Ryū watched them exchange a look he was conflicted to know he couldn't read. A moment later, and Sabo was racing out the door after Luffy. Ace wasn't meeting his eyes. His oldest-little brother squirmed a little under his stare, eyes pinned to the floor, but his hand stayed threaded firmly into Ryū's sleeve. It wasn't an act. Ace didn't have it in him to pretend to be cute, but Ryū had never really gotten the chance to see this side of him in reality and god damn it was it distracting– "He's gonna go make sure Luffy doesn't get into trouble," he eventually mumbled.
Ryū let it be. Sabo had been with them long enough to figure out how best to handle Luffy with just as much finesse and grace as the first time around. Despite how he faltered his body always managed to follow through enough to fill in the gaps. (It brought Ryū some hope, but not much. His own memory had been a nebulous thing, half-formed and always out of reach. If Sabo didn't lunge for it with a grip tight enough to strangle, he wouldn't catch it. Ryū would rather his brother be happy than–) If nothing broke, no one screamed, and Sabo didn't come get him, they were probably fine.
...He'd still get up and check in a bit.
Hopefully, without issue. Nohiko hadn't chased after her sister but looked plenty close to with how pale her knuckles were wrapped around the edge of her seat. Genzo looked seconds from trying to level a gun at him. It only reminded Ryū more of that sick, familiar leaded feeling, layering the lining of his gut. These people are far too wary, and this town far too empty. And I still don't know why, and the boys are all with me.
(He would not risk them again. Marines were one thing, but marines in the East blue– hell, in any Blue, were a joke. Marines could cause unrest, and tension, and have citizens tiptoeing in the dark, but the weighted silence of what felt like the entire island was disconcerting. Ryū would sooner bite through a marine's throat, haki-colored jaws and all, before he would let whatever looming threat on the island get within arms reach of his brothers.)
(Ryū didn't have time for this. Recon was just a part of his job, waiting and listening was going to be a waste of time when he could just act. Koala would smack him for it– she never approved of a sloppy job. But a sloppy job made in a dreamscape? She'd reprimand him for it, but she'd have to find out first.)
"You can't stay long," Genzo told him, after the long quiet had settled into something tentative and still– "But I can– where are you going?"
Ryū smiled disarmingly, flipping his pipe back up into his hand to slot firmly into his belt behind his back. Ace scrambled to his feet after him but Ryū casually pushed him right back down into his now-vacated seat. He got a scowl for it that went completely, happily, ignored. "I'm going to go out for some sunshine," He said. Both civilians jumped to their feet, eyes wide and alarmed. He didn't need it, at that point, but the massive red flag managed to reduce his cheerful front just the slightest. "I won't tell anyone I met you, of course, it's none of their business– but could you point me the way?" Any which way. Maybe no way at all– Ryū was well established with the method of starting with no starting-line.
Ace was back on his feet despite Ryū's efforts. "Wait," He called. His little hands latched onto Ryū without hesitation and it was only the tight pull on his hand, not the loose fabric of his sleeve or coat, that made Ryū turn at all. "Wait, wait! Let me come with you."
Absolutely not. "Absolutely not."
Those startled grey eyes were far too wide, darkened with– something. "You can't just leave us here," He hissed, "Sabo can stay and watch Luffy, but you– you said you wouldn't do this anymore!" The accusation was biting, but Ryū was used to fielding it by that point.
Ryū wished, with every sleep-addled and delirious bone in his body, that he had no idea what Ace was talking about. Thinking quickly, he dropped to a crouch and pulled Ace in close in a hug. (He was happy to see him only momentarily stiffen. He really was getting better at that.) "Listen to me," Ryū whispered. Maybe it was the hug, maybe the urgency in his voice, but Ace stilled immediately. "I need to find out what's going on, and I'll be most easily hidden alone. I need you to stay and look after your brothers while I'm gone–" Genzo and Nohiko were still standing, when he glanced up through his hair. Standing, but not coming closer. It wasn't respect. Ryū didn't blame them for listening. Too much paranoia and distrust with nowhere to go. "–them and Genzo's family. I can only trust this to you, as the oldest– can you do that for me?"
Ace could be obstinate. Could be pig-headed and selfish and stubborn and self-sacrificing all at once. But if there was one thing being a big brother taught him, it was reliability.
A short, determined little nod. Almost a twitch against Ryū's shoulder. "I can do that," He whispered, just as serious. For all of the tenseness of the situation, Ryū felt remarkably like he was playing a game. "I'll take care of everybody like you taught us. Sabo n' I both."
Ace reached up, taking advantage of Ryū crouching, and ow, ow, ow, hand in his hair–
"So don't get caught," Ace hissed, "By whatever you find." With that, he untangled his hand– haki, Ryū noted with no small amount of conflicted pride and confoundment– and plopped back into his chair with an expectant look. Ryū stuck his tongue out at him. It didn't help his dignity or the new throb in his scalp, but it made Ace's cheeks heat and that was good enough. Had to get his wins where he could. (...and there was no getting frustrated with a request to come back safely. Even tinged with pain it made him warm.)
"I'll also keep Luffy from eating all their tangerines," Ace said. Ryū pretended not to hear the frantic "What?!" from their stunned hosts as he left.
It was probably more than a little rude, offloading his brothers off onto what were supposed to be strangers. (it was Nami's family. His littlest brother's future navigator, who loved loyally and fiercely and had one of the strongest moral sense close to the Revolutionary's own. If she loved these people, this makeshift family she had ran to and collected in those callused, worn little fingers– if his Luffy recognized her, dispute through Ryū's subconscious, in a dream– if his brothers refused to chase after him, because for once they recognized something more important than answers–)
He would let them stay. Ryū didn't need to ask any of them, to know they were set on protecting Nakama.
(...As well as a bonus, that Luffy alone could be distraction enough for Ryū to slip out unhindered. He was special like that.)
It wasn't a guarantee that answers would be as easy to find. But this was Ryū's job. Had been for a long time, even before the Revolutionary Army. He was stranded in a ghost town. Hopefully, this time, he would at least be able to explore it without the hyper-aware anxiety of one of his brothers picking a fight– even if there was no one visibly around to pick a fight with.
There were plenty of people around though. Ryū could feel them. They may have crept, lingering in the edges and peripherals like terrified prey animals, but they were all there. Tip-toeing through alleyways and huddled in houses. As he passed, he could recognize the way their auras pressed up against doors and windows, doubtlessly watching him.
These people are terrified.
(He wouldn't waste his time convincing himself that it wasn't for a good reason. The excuse of the "weakest sea" nor a "dream" could veil the undeniable feeling of wrong thickly blanketing the entire town.)
Ryū wasn't looking for them, though they did paint a more detailed picture with each step. The sheer weight of paranoid caution made his fingers flex in his gloves. No, none of the presences in the town stood out to him. Too small, too scared. Weak and in hiding and so, so normal that it took focus to actively parse through them.
No. Ryū didn't need to waste his time asking around. What little he learned, in that tangerine grove, was enough to start off of. No situation was ever clear and simple enough to be waved away by an empty town and scared civilians– but Ryū's heart raced with the acknowledgment of a headier aura, pulsing just on the edges of his senses.
They was no point straying off the straight path. His feet knew where to fall.
(All the way at the other end. They were all huddled together. The strongest presences on the island. Nowhere impressive enough to make Ryū flinch– not even enough to make him hesitate. But it was enough to clear every street corner, every alleyway, every door and blind and shutter. It was enough to make Luffy's future storm of a navigator go quiet, and still. He didn't like that.)
(There was a lot he didn't like.)
It somehow managed to take longer and shorter than Ryū thought, to track down the first of those auras. Admittedly, he was still very adjusted to the high-risk maneuvers that came with operating on the Grand Line. Living with a smaller version of his brothers (and himself, but, oops, nope, maybe he wasn't as prepared to think about that as he thought) didn't make him any less paranoid.
Anywhere else, they would have come to find him. Either that or sprinted in the opposite direction. What was Ryū supposed to do with enemies that just…. Wandered cluelessly around? Did they even know he was there?
Clearly not, with the face the fishman had turned on him.
The fishman– and oh, wow, Ryū really needed to ask for a name, he felt like Koala was going to physically materialize and cuff him for being rude– flexed. One of his arms reached for the gun at his hip and Ryū stopped short at the familiar dark visage of–
"A Sun pirate?" He asked, shocked. The fishman froze. Ryū pressed on, his hands flipping palm up and out of the defensive posture of his claw. "You're– what are you doing here? What's going on, where's–" he took a step forward and couldn't help the way his face twisted in confusion when the other backed away. That hand hadn't drawn the gun, but it was visibly pressed white around its hilt. He seemed as shocked as Ryū was, startled silent in the wake of Ryū's own perplexion.
That lingering feeling of something being wrong increased tenfold.
Still, he owned it to Koala to at least try. He'd never hear the end of it if she caught wind he resorted to beating up a sun pirate without even trying to talk, dream or not. He was better than that. Benefit of the doubt. "What are you doing all the way out in some random village in East Blue? Did Jimbei send you?" If he remembered correctly, Koala had mentioned something about Jinbei and his pseudo-brother, something about the East Blue– "Is someone bothering you, here? If you tell me, I'm sure I can help."
The fishman only stumbled back another step. One, two– Oh, he was running.
Benefit of the doubt.
The feeling was getting worse and worse.
...I should find this Arlong guy. Before the boys do.
Welcome back! bit of a smaller chapter but Wror is now off hiatus. Updates will be slower compared to last year but no more multiple month hiatuses if i can help it! Thanks for the patience!
As always, you can find me on tumblr as Leviathiane! I respond much faster and all questions on scheduling and plot are best fielded there.
See ya next time ;)
