Disclaimer: Oh, I wish.
In the end, hurrying back to the ship made no difference. The rest of the crew had already returned, and as Nami had (wisely, of course) deemed it far too expensive for everyone to eat out for the entire duration of their stay, Sanji had to set aside his plans and impatience in order to do his job and feed the crew. He spent the entire evening itching to read the book and let everyone fend for themselves, but there was simply no way he could do that. He consoled himself with the fact that he got to try out some new recipes using the ingredients he had bought.
Even so, cooking, serving and cleaning the aftermath of a meal with the Straw Hats was always a time-consuming process, and by the time he was done the sun had long since set. He did not have watch, he was dead tired, and he still had to get up at the crack of dawn the next day to prepare breakfast, so it was with extreme reluctance that he gave up on the book for the night. On his way to the men's quarters he nearly changed his mind a grand total of six times, and double that before he managed to fall asleep.
Morning came around eventually, and saw Sanji back in the kitchen getting breakfast and lunch boxes ready. He was restless and his thoughts kept wandering back to the book, but his work was as impeccable as always. When the crew showed up to eat, he tried not to sound too eager in volunteering to watch the ship for the day, and had to try harder not to grin when everyone agreed.
The fifth's people roamed far and wide, untethered and lost, but time moved on. Younger generations were born without ever knowing a permanent home, learning the way of the wanderer and forgetting that once upon a time, their people had sought a destination, an end to their journey. They became the vagabonds of the shores, the eternal travelers.
But even they could not shake the longing for the seas, or the feeling of being slightly out of step with everything else.
"Ah, Robin-chwan!" Sanji called out to the archaeologist before she followed everyone off the ship. "I found a nice bookshop yesterday, and I thought you might be interested. The owner was rather helpful too."
Robin nodded and listened carefully as Sanji gave her directions (interspersed with the appropriate compliments and praises of her beauty and intelligence, naturally). "Thank you Cook-san, I'll be sure to go have a look." Then she too left and disappeared into the crowd.
Sanji made himself wait a few minutes just to be sure that no-one would come back and interrupt him, before he all but sprinted to the galley and fished out the book from where he'd left it among his own journals. He sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter, running his hands over the cover. It didn't have any of the embossing the blue book had had, but then again that had been a storybook while this was a captain's logbook; the different bindings were only to be expected. Now that he inspected it closer, he could see some damage to the edges of the covers that he'd failed to notice before. The color was a faded, and the spine was well-worn.
Carefully, he opened it up to the first page, re-reading what little he had seen the day before.
'Captain Elias Lonn
Ship's log of the Kalevala
Almost all preparations have been complete, and we will be ready to leave Sammatti and begin the Kalevala's maiden voyage within the week should everything proceed as planned. The crew has...'
Here, the ink had smudged to the point of illegibility. What he could make out after careful inspection was the date, and... well. This thing was older than he had imagined. By centuries. He checked the next page, wondering if he wasn't misreading the admittedly blurred text, and there it was: an entry dated six days later, same year.
Which put the book at more than 600 years old.
It was the children who were able to make the best of the life the fifth's people had come to lead. To travel was ordinary in their eyes, and with no home to miss, they were able to find some joy. They played tag in the forests, built castles of sand for the little crabs they found on the beaches, and laughed as the tides kissed the shoreline.
And then came the strange games the adults could not understand. The children ran around, following a movement they could not see, and not long after began to chase shadows no-one else knew were there. All the while they told each other stories of places they had never visited, of people they couldn't possibly have ever met. They told stories of silver, of a treasure they could never catch.
Not one of them could tell who was the first to share the stories, not one of them was sure where the stories came from at all.
The bell jingled above Robin's head as she entered. The shop's interior immediately gave her a good impression, matching the cook's description perfectly. He had a good eye for places like this, Robin had to admit.
"Welcome!" called a man she presumed to be the owner from behind the counter at the front of the shop. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here on the recommendation of a crewmate, he said your shop was worth looking into. I must say he appears to be right."
The man looked her over for a moment, then smiled as something clicked in his mind. "Ah, you must be the archaeologist friend! Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"
Robin obliged, stepping further inside. "Your collection is impressive."
"I should hope so, with how much I've had to pay for some of them. You'll find books from all over the world here, on just about any topic... Is there anything in particular you want to find, or would you prefer to just look around?"
Robin cast her eyes over the shelves, unable to quell her academic excitement at being surrounded by so much knowledge. Her expression and tone, however, remained neutral as she replied, "I think I'd like to explore a little bit, if you don't mind."
The old man smiled in amusement. "I recognize a fellow bibliophile when I see one. Well, feel free browse as much as you like. I have everything sorted roughly by genre and subject matter, although the oldest works are in a section of their own towards the back over there. I'll be right here should you need anything."
"Thank you."
It truly was the kind of place you could wander around and lose track of time in, as Robin quickly discovered. It was entirely worth it, too; the old man really did have books from all over the world. She found several that captured her interest, and she would no doubt find more as she continued her way around the store.
It was a some two hours in when something started to bug her, and it took a while for her to identify what it was. No matter where she looked, she found little to nothing about Merchant Island itself; at least, not beyond some trade records, all of which were relatively recent. It was strange, an island this vibrant was sure to have a colorful history to match. Even beneath all the pandering to customers, Robin sensed the undercurrents of a strong cultural identity. Why, then, was there absolutely nothing to found about any of it?
Determined to find out, she took her intended purchases over to the front counter.
"Done so soon?" the old man asked amiably, checking the prices on the books Robin had set down and adding up the total.
"For the most part, yes. I was wondering if you had anything on the history of Merchant Island itself?" The man hesitated for a moment, as if debating his answer.
"I don't have much from around here, but there's a shop meant for tourists further down the street. You'll find a lot to do with the local superstitions, how to avoid bad luck and whatnot, as well as the history of the markets... but something tells me that isn't what you're after."
"I was hoping for something that goes a little... deeper, yes."
"Then you may be out of luck. I've lived here for a good twenty-five years, and I'm still in the dark about anything beyond the island's recent history."
"There are no records? Can you not ask the locals, then?" Robin kept her inquiries as casual as she could while still appearing interested. It wouldn't help at all if the man felt like he was being interrogated.
"I can and I have, not that it did me much good. It's not that they refuse to tell me, it's that they can't. I honestly don't think the locals know much more than I do. Not one of them has even been able to tell me anything about the origins of all their beliefs. You'd think that if they're so adamant about putting your left shoe on first being terrible luck, they'd at least be able to tell you why. I'd be willing to accept 'the shoe spirits dislike left feet' as an explanation, but they can't even give me that."
"And you have no idea why this is?" The Void Century could account for some missing history, but it was unlikely to have wiped out the foundations of a belief system. Even if it had, such a system would have reshaped itself to some degree over the 800 years since then, especially if the islanders still adhered to it this day.
The man shook his head. "None whatsoever."
Robin looked him over, trying to assess whether or not she should believe him. He seemed genuine enough, but she knew better than take everything at face value. Either way, however, it was unlikely that she'd get any more useful information from him.
"Ah, that's a shame. But nevertheless, thank you for your help," she said, paying for the books and gathering them up. The old man smiled at her.
"No problem! I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use. Oh, and before you go, are the islanders still giving your crew trouble?"
Robin blinked a bit in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"
"Yesterday your friend said they'd been less than welcoming, is that still the case?" This was definitely news to her.
"I can't say they've been anything other than friendly so far."
The old man frowned. "Maybe it was just him, then... Not entirely impossible, I suppose."
"I'll have to ask him about that...," Robin muttered, more to herself. She was about to say her goodbyes, but the old man spoke up before she could.
"Um. There may be...," he started slowly, as if conflicted over what he was trying to say, "...something... on the North side of the island, if you're curious." The sudden change in topic threw Robin off a bit, but she quickly pushed that aside in favor of recalling the geography of the island. As far as she had seen, the North side was nothing but woodland. She gestured for the man to continue, which he did after a moment.
"It's not illegal to go there, but it most certainly isn't encouraged. I tried to check it out when I was younger, but I got caught and unfortunately pleading ignorance only works once."
Robin frowned. "If it's not illegal, why would getting caught matter?"
"I moved here with the intention of making a living, and that would have been a lot harder if I was shunned for committing taboo. Even as it was, no-one would speak to me for a while after that." Robin considered this new information carefully.
"And supposing they caught us?"
The man shrugged. "I doubt there'd be any serious consequences. You're travelers passing by, not residents. But if you do get caught... I never told you anything."
Robin smiled. "Of course."
It was the quieter children who noticed it first, but the others caught on quickly.
After every day of playing and traveling, after camp had been set up for the night, after they were done telling each other stories for their dreams to build on, they settled down to the sound of waves. One by one, the children began to hear the soft lullabies, the gentle tones of the sea. There were no words to make out, but the melodies they learned carried over to sunrise when they would sing them to each other, proud and excited and happy that the ocean would teach them something so beautiful.
One by one they started to listen closer, in hopes that the ocean had more for them to hear. For a long time, there was nothing, but the children refused to give up.
And then it began. An echo from far away and long ago caught in their ears, and the more they listened, the clearer it became. They began to whisper it among themselves, as if to test it, to taste it on their tongues. Like a ripple running through still water, the words spread; from child to adult, from camp to camp.
Keep moving, the waves murmured.
"Keep moving," the fifth's people repeated back.
Damn, he was out of practice. It didn't help that this Elias guy used some words in completely different contexts than Sanji had ever come across, or some sounds were written with symbols he had never seen. The latter, at least, wasn't terribly frequent and he was able to figure out what they meant after comparing to what he remembered. He'd still had to write it all out before he got to that point, but now at least he could easily check between the two highly similar alphabets (if they really qualified as separate at all, most of the smaller differences could easily be attributed to the guy's handwriting). The weirdly placed words weren't impossible to work out either, but since they were largely used in what he assumed were just figures of speech, he didn't always bother.
He didn't know how old the blue book had been, but he was reasonably sure the logbook was older. Maybe the writing style had shifted during whatever time separated the two? He didn't have any other ideas on why there were differences like that.
Whatever the case may be, he was still making headway. Sammatti, as it turned out, was an island in South Blue, which was nice to know as he'd never even heard of it before. The goal of the Kalevala's maiden voyage was to reach a nearby island, where Elias hoped to establish some kind of trade agreement between the two islands.
It... wasn't particularly exciting, in all honesty. Most of the entries just detailed the basic goings-on of the ship: how she was holding up, what needed to be repaired or adjusted, when and where (and if) they stopped for the night, bla bla bla. The only reason he'd kept reading was because it was written in the old tongue; there was something incredibly comforting about reading the familiar curving script. Absentmindedly, he brought his hand up to his chest, where his pendant rested beneath his shirt. He'd taken to wearing the thing again, as he had as a child. Between it and the book, he felt ridiculously nostalgic.
He turned the page gently, trying to avoid damaging the book more than it already was. Several entries had been impossible to read simply because they were so badly deteriorated.
'We will be arriving at our destination shortly, and for that I am glad. The crew works well together, but I believe we could all use a brief respite from each other's presence. Moreover, as soon as we complete our negotiations, we will be free to begin the second leg of our journey and get started with our long-term objective.'
Sanji blinked. They were already almost there? Somehow, he'd expected it to take longer. Not only that, but there had been no mention of anything to do with a secondary mission until now.
'I have already compiled all of the old stories back home, but my elders have long since advised that much has been lost. It is my hope that I can find elsewhere what no longer exists on our island. If I can bring the old tales together, perhaps I can create something to help all of us remind ourselves of who we are. Even if that does not come to pass, at least I would like to save the stories from oblivion. They do not deserve to be washed away by the failing memory of history.'
Well this was different. Collecting stories? It sounded more interesting than trade negotiations, that much was certain... even if it was a bit of an odd goal. Given the phrasing, Elias seemed to be referring to some particular stories, too.
Ever so carefully he read on, but the next several entries were more of the same short, matter-of-fact reports on the ship and crew. He didn't skip them, as that felt somehow disrespectful, but boredom started to creep in. At long last, the Kalevala reached its destination, and for a while the entries got longer but more sporadic, going on and on about the details of the proposed trade agreement. Sanji admittedly skimmed through those parts, but he did get the impression that the islanders were reluctant to agree with anything Elias suggested. Eventually, however, some kind of breakthrough was achieved and the agreement was signed. The entries took on a relieved and, if Sanji was interpreting the writing correctly, excited tone.
Heh, it seemed not even Elias himself had found the Kalevala's first mission interesting in the slightest. Sanji couldn't blame him, this kind of stuff was dull as dishwater. He did wonder, however, why someone who was pretty clearly not a merchant had been left in charge of forging a trade agreement. Go figure.
He was about to push on, but voices from outside the galley caught his attention.
"...and they even had obsidian scalpels! Unfortunately they were way too expensive for me to buy, but can you imagine...!" Sanji closed the logbook and hurriedly gathered up the papers he'd been writing on as footsteps approached. While not exactly something he needed to keep secret, he didn't feel like explaining what he had been doing the whole day. He wished he'd had a bit more time to read, but there was nothing he could do. The door opened, and in walked Chopper and a rather bemused Zoro, who probably understood none of the medical jargon the small doctor was spewing.
"Sanji!" Chopper called out excitedly. "Look at all the herbs they had!" He proudly laid out everything he had bought on the table, pointing things out one by one. Some of the herbs Sanji could recognize, and he suggested adding them to the Straw Hats' meals. Chopper agreed readily, listing the ones he felt were most needed for the crew's health. They discussed different possibilities, but all the while Sanji couldn't help but wonder how the islanders had treated the reindeer. Surely, if they'd been as bad as yesterday, he wouldn't be so cheerful?
Actually, now that he thought about it, none of the crew members had brought up anything to do with the islanders after returning to the ship the evening before. He would have thought that one of them would have something to say on the matter. Sure, he and Usopp hadn't said anything either, but Usopp had been busy with some project or other again and Sanji himself had been incredibly distracted. With that thought in mind, he asked Chopper his question.
"What were the islanders like?" Chopper looked confused at the abrupt change in topic, but his face lit up as he answered.
"They're great! Everyone's so nice here! One of them even gave me a second cotton candy for free when I bought one!"
"It's annoying, they wouldn't leave us alone," Zoro added, apparently deciding to join the discussion from next to the shelf where the alcohol was stored. "But you were out yesterday, so why are you asking?"
"It's called making conversation, Marimo." The sarcastic response was entirely automatic, as Sanji was more interested in processing this new information. "And leave the booze alone! I just restocked and I sure as hell don't want to have to do it again immediately. If you want a drink, go buy your own!"
Chopper gasped and turned to Zoro with an angry expression. "You shouldn't be drinking at all! I told you already, alcohol won't help you heal!" Zoro glared at Sanji, it seemed he'd been trying to be subtle in stealing his sake. Sanji grinned brightly in return. The idiot was the one who'd spoken up and brought attention to himself; he was a lousy thief.
"I wasn't-," the swordsman tried to explain to Chopper, but the young doctor wasn't listening.
"Don't you realize how badly injured you are?"
"I'm not-"
"Do you want to die? What if you just make it worse and I can't help you and, and, and..." Chopper started sniffling as he switched gears from angry to distraught. "I don't want you to diiiieee!"
Even the great Roronoa Zoro was no match for an upset Chopper, and Sanji was far too amused by the horrified expression that flitted over the swordsman's face. "Alright, alright! I promise I won't drink! Not gonna die, see?"
The change in Chopper's demeanor was near instantaneous, and not for the first time Sanji wondered if the reindeer actually knew exactly what he was doing in using his inherent cuteness to his advantage. Sanji almost felt sorry for Zoro, but only almost. He was too busy relishing the swordsman's suffering to pity him.
As Chopper gathered up his things and headed off to the infirmary to put them away, Zoro leveled one of his best glares at Sanji, who put on an exaggerated expression of innocence.
"I'll get you for this, cook," Zoro growled. Sanji placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt.
"You wound me, Marimo! I only had your health in mind! Oh, to see my kindness repaid with such anger... I fear I will never recover!"
"Keep going and I really will wound you." A lesser man would have been intimidated by Zoro's menacing tone, but Sanji just increased his theatrics.
"Alas! Will this callousness never end? Will this poor piece of moss ever learn the meaning of gratitude? Begone, I must grieve for my wasted courtesy!"
Zoro glared, grumbled something and then stomped out of the galley, slamming the door behind him. Sanji cackled in triumph. In any other circumstances the two of them would probably have fought, but Chopper had banned all strenuous activity for the swordsman and neither he nor Sanji were willing to risk the doctor's wrath, certainly not when said doctor was within earshot.
Still grinning in victory (for it most certainly had been his win), Sanji cleared the counters and brought out the ingredients for dinner. The others would be back soon enough, and in all likelihood they would be hungry. He'd make some adjustments to the recipe he intended to use to better suit the crew's tastes, and for that he could use some of his new spices...
As he worked, his mind circled back to his conversation with Chopper. Neither he nor Zoro had been bothered by the islanders, and Sanji wondered if that held true for the others as well. Was it just him and Usopp the locals had found to be offensive on a personal level? If so, why?
Time flows steady, and slowly the children grew up to take their places among their own. They never forgot what they'd heard the ocean sing, and held onto the stories they had told. And while many lost sight of the shadows they'd played with, some never let go.
And despite being the most well-adjusted generation yet, despite embracing the lives they led, it was they whose longing for the seas was the fiercest. It was they who were best attuned to the currents, it was they whose hearts beat in time with the waves.
It was they whose love for the unattainable could not be matched by any who came before them.
Usopp was, in a word, confused. Yesterday, he'd been sure that the islanders would follow him and Sanji back and shiv the crew in their sleep, leaving the Sunny a bloody mess of corpses. Today, he was half certain they would build a shrine in the crew's honor and worship the ground they walked on. It was quite possibly the most extreme about-face he had ever seen.
It made no sense. At all.
"Talk about an attitude change," he said to Franky. Maybe the islanders had realized who they had been so rude to, and now sought the forgiveness of the Great Captain Usopp? Yes, that had to be it! Of course, they were groveling for his mercy, as they should! Why, once he had beat up an entire army when they had-
"What do you mean, bro?" Usopp stopped his internal narrative for a moment.
"What do you mean, what do I mean? They hated us yesterday!"
Now it was Franky's turn to look confused. "I really don't think so, bro. They're acting exactly the same if you ask me."
"Wha-... Are you sure? Because they totally wanted us dead when I was shopping with Sanji!"
"Positive. Maybe you just misunderstood them?"
As it turned out, the more they compared the day before, the more obvious it became that they had had two completely different experiences.
"Aren't you exaggerating? I mean, maybe they were a little rude, but was it really that bad?"
"No, I'm not! I swear they were-"
"Excuse me?" Usopp and Franky halted their debate when the new voice joined in. It took Usopp a moment to recognize the man, but when he did his eyes widened in surprise.
"You! You're one of the shopkeepers from yesterday!" He glanced at Franky quickly, then back to the man. Now the shipwright could see for himself...
"Yes. Uh... I suppose I should start with this...," the vendor said, partially to himself, "I would like to apologize for yesterday. Truly, I did not wish to offend you." Usopp blinked.
"Huh?" So they really had realized that they had been speaking to the Great Captain Usopp! Well, since he was apologizing so openly-
"It's just... Are you traveling with the blond one?"
The question caught him off-guard. "Well, yeah. He's our coo-"
"Get rid of it." The vendor's tone was serious, and even a bit fearful. Usopp was at a loss for how to answer, but luckily Franky filled in for him.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you mean, 'get rid of it'? Get rid of what?"
"To sail with such an ill omen will only bring down tragedy on yourselves. I beg of you, for your own sakes, abandon it. You'll find plenty of people on the island to replace it on your crew, I'm sure. A cook, wasn't it? I can show you to the taverns, there's always someone there..."
Usopp was finally starting to catch up. "Hold on, you mean Sanji? Why on earth would we get rid of him?" The vendor actually flinched.
"I wouldn't advise calling these things by name. You're only inviting further misfortune."
"Careful there, that's our nakama you're talking about," Franky growled. Nobody talked shit about his crew while he was around. Beside him, Usopp nearly cheered in agreement. The vendor looked distinctly uncomfortable, and after a few awkward moments he sighed.
"I cannot force you to do anything, but please take my words to heart." He turned away from them, about to leave. "At least I warned you." With that, he walked off into the crowd.
For several moments, Usopp and Franky just stared after him, trying to put together what had just happened.
"...What do you think that was all about?" Franky asked eventually. Usopp shook his head slowly.
"I... I have no idea."
They finished what little shopping still needed to be done in an apprehensive silence, and headed back to the Sunny with a sense of unease growing within them.
A/N
Again, this took longer than I wanted it to, but hey, at least it wasn't as bad as last time!
Have I mentioned how awesome you guys are? Because seriously, I love you all. Your reviews are all so kind that I just turn into this happy, blushing mess whenever I read them. And so once again, a huge thank you not only to those who reviewed, but everyone who followed and favorited as well! Y'all make my day!