Naruto Fan Fiction!
SI-OC!
(Title)
"The Weasel and His Cat"
DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'Naruto'!
WARNING! RATED M! For warnings of harsh language.
Batch Gin was the perfect example of a Summer Island in the swings of early fall. Cool mornings wrapped in balmy sunlight, long days with burning sunsets that melted into hazy nights. It was a vacationer's paradise. The lax Navy presence in this area of the sea was a boon unto itself, allowing for their temporary stay to go on mostly unhindered by misfortune.
That is, until Roger inevitably got bored.
There was a great crash of sand in the distance, water and earth erupted from the impact and were sent flying. Echoes of cheers could be heard, of excitement or horror, she couldn't quite decipher. Nor did she really care to. Her only concern at the moment was emptying the bottle of spiced rum clasped between her fingertips.
She took another swig from the smoky bottle, relishing the detestable burn as it slid down her throat. A tremor breathed through the ground again and the Woman wiped her scowling lips, bright green eyes flicking back over to where the Oro Jackson was tranqilly docked at the edge of the water.
Shaking her head of pesky thoughts, she took another drink of her bottle. If it was anything truly important, then someone would've come out to get—
"MISS! THERE'S TROUBLE! MISS ANNIEEEE!"
A redhead in a straw hat came running over the crest of the hilltop and she recognized the voice of one of the youngest members of their motley crew, a wooden sword bouncing against his hip as he ran. The Woman let out a long sigh, tipping the wide brim of her cap down over her eyes.
Hand on his beloved hat, he bent over and gasped for breath as he arrived beside her. "Sorry for botherin' ya Miss Annie, but the Captain's busy and we need ya back in town! Real fast, too."
"Go ask Rayleigh for whatever it is you need." she retorted, eyes still shaded and trying to enjoy the warmth of the sun on her skin. "He's the vice-captain. He's supposed to be good for something other than emptying our liquor reserves."
"Thing is, uh," Shanks scratched his cheek, a cheeky lopsided smile springing up that she held no doubt he learned from Silvers. "Mister Rayleigh's indisposed at the moment, and s'why I needed to get you. He's gotten himself into some misunderstanding with the locals."
She gave a disgusted groan. "Whose wife did he bed this time?"
"Uh, the daughter of that big Mayor guy, I'm pretty sure." he answered promptly.
Slowly, the Woman lifted the brim of her cavalier so that she may stare at the boy, critical lime-green eyes making him fidget in place. Another crash in the distance sent a flock of island birds scattering to the western winds.
"You mean Sif. The half-giant." she clarified blandly. "The daughter of Harald, the full-fucking-bodied Giant and mayor of the town?"
Shanks gave a sheepish nod and she suddenly understood what the tremors in the distance and Shanks presence before her meant — Roger was currently wrestling with a twice-damned Giant. She should've expected this. Her Idiot Captain had been looking too eager for a brawl since they made shore. He must've jumped at the chance.
The Woman set a hand across her face and groaned, her misery becoming a physical thing. The bottle of rum falling to her side, forgotten in the sand.
"Why the hell am I still in this asylum?" she bemoaned to herself. "I should've drowned myself in the sea years ago..."
"Aww, c'mon Miss Annie! It ain't that bad!" Shanks tried, giving the Woman a consoling pat on the shoulder. A howl tore across the landscape and the youth gave the direction of town a curious glance. "But, we oughta get going to the chapel pretty soon. We still have to rescue Mister Rayleigh."
Her lime-green glare snapped up, narrowing. "What do you mean by 'chapel'? What haven't you mentioned, Red one? What did Silvers get himself into."
"Oh right! See, after the big guy caught Mister Rayleigh this morning, he demanded that he marry his daughter sayin' it was the 'right thing to do'. 'Course Mister Rayleigh declined but that's when the sisters came out—"
"There's more half-giants skulking about?" she hissed. "Fucking hell, I don't want to know what happened to their mother."
"Dahaha! That's what Spencer said too!" he said with a grin, adjusting his hat after a shockwave from town tilted it forward. "Anyways, somehow they got Mister Rayleigh in one of those collar things we saw on that group on Ranmevir a couple months back and he was forced into a church to be gettin' married to the girl. But Captain intervened when Mister Rayleigh asked for help and then started fightin' with the mayor — that's when I was ordered to come find you! So we gotta go rescue him as soon as we can!"
At the end of the story Shanks had looked at the Woman with bright-eyed excitement in his youthful gaze. Waiting to see how she'll ably spring into action and lead the charge to rescue their beloved vice-captain.
What actually happened however, was the woman's head tipping back to let out a long and loud howl of laughter. Her fit had her torso shaking and she nearly fell out of her chair at one point. Shanks deflated at the response he really should've anticipated.
"C'mon, miss! We have to go rescue him!"
She gave a harsh scoff, the last of her chuckles rolling from her lips. "Leave him! Maybe matrimony will teach him to tighten his belt."
Shanks was aghast. "But Miss Annie—"
"We're not his babysitters. It's not our job to clean up after that drunkard's messes. He got himself into this, he can just as well get himself out."
"Can't, Miss." he said, face suddenly taking on a more solemn expression.
She didn't quite like the look of that. Not one bit. It reminded her of someone unpleasant and quite stubborn. Someone that had owned that Straw Hat before him.
The young red-haired boy stood tall, eyes flashing with a steel beyond his age before he uttered; "Captain's orders."
The Woman decided she much preferred the idiotic smile.
"Shit."
She pushed her shades up and stood, scowling bitterly. A blinding grin split the boy's face, until she petulantly flicked the hat off his head. She set off towards town immediately. Her apprentice back at her heels, quickly taking the lead to guide her to the chapel where their wayward Vice-Captain was getting hitched.
They were in town in a matter of minutes with the woman's brisk strides. "Where's Shelia?" the Woman asked.
"Buggy went to go get her, said he'd met us at there!" Shanks responded, leading them through the dirt paved streets and small wooden houses. In the distance, the Woman could see the battle the Idiot Captian was taking place in.
She cursed him under her breath, arriving at an aged stone church for some deity that was assuredly dead. Her lime-green eyes zeroed in on a movement from above. Twenty meters in the air, there was a colorful young boy aiming her blunderbuss through an open window as if it was a rifle.
"What in the second Hell is the Blue one doing up there." Sheila can barely hit a target within two meters, forget whatever he's trying to do.
Shanks put a hand on his hat as he squinted up, "I think he's trying to help!"
"Hey! No one is allowed to interrupt the ceremony!" Two dim-looking fellows barged around the corner, lifting their dulled swords in a threatening manner.
Within a heartbeat, maybe two, the Woman's hand touched the hilt of her wooden sword, the world shifted into a shade of blue, and the men's heads were screaming as they rolled into the dirt. Freshly removed from their sweaty necks.
Shanks snickered before dashing over to kick one as if it was a football, much to the disembodied head's displeasure. The woman plucked a scarf from one of the panicking bodies and with a flick of her fingers, the fabric was replaced with the weight of her blunderbuss.
"OI! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FLASHY GUN?!"
The Woman was duly unimpressed.
"Blue one!" Buggy yelped as he finally noticed their presence. Jaw dropping upon seeeing how Shanks was tormenting the two discombobulated fellows. "Stop playing around and guard the door with the Red one."
Without waiting to see if the children would follow her orders, she hefted the blunderbuss onto her shoulder and kicked in the front doors to the little chapel. A dramatic enough entrance to make her idiot Captian proud.
Simple stained-glass windows and rows of empty pews. At the back was an alter and scripture for a God the Woman never had the decency to meet. The building was deserted, save for the happy couple aided by four half-giant sisters and a crooked little priest.
The Lady Sif was the picture of womanly loveliness with her braided snowy-white hair, about 7'9" in height and all curves in all the right places, a thin veil shading her heart-shaped face. It was easy to see why Rayleigh had bitten into this particular forbidden fruit. But it still did not excuse his stupidity.
They all looked toward the doors in shock, only Rayleigh delighted to see her. Even then it was a backhanded sort of delight that was mixed with anxiety. It was clear that she was not the savior he had been praying for.
"I object!" The Woman announced, striding forward.
"I-I haven't gotten to that part, yet."
"Oh," the Woman took a seat in one of the pews, kicking her boots up on the seat in front of her. "Carry on then. I'll wait."
The look Rayleigh shot her was devastating, but was not in the least surprised.
Unfortunately the Woman was not allowed to spectate Rayleigh's misery in peace. The four other daughters of Harald were not as lovely to look upon as Sif, for their shapeliness came in the size of their muscles and set of strong jaws. Taking after their father than their mother, by her wager.
The world was dipped in a iridescent blue film before the Woman drew her sword, the smooth wooden blade stained onyx to match the thick curls on her head and tattered duster draped over her shoulders. Her movements were fluid, not a motion wasted as she swept her sword through them all.
Falling to the floor, the women suddenly found themselves cut cleanly in half. Each of the felled giant spawn looked at their disembodied lower halves and then up at the Woman in abject horror, as if she were some monster that had crawled out of the depths of Tartarus itself.
One of them managed to curse out a familiar phrase. "D-Devil Fruit user! She's a Devil Fruit user!"
The Woman smirked, heightening their terror.
There was some small part of her that wouldn't deny being fond of the effortless intimidation she radiated these days. But first she would had to admit it, and she would only do so over her dead body.
She did a slight bow to the blushing bride, "Unfortunately Miss, I cannot allow you to claim our Vice-Captain. He's spoken for. Without him, our crew would be down an idiot and the rest of the fools would just be heartlorn if that were to become the case."
Ray made to say something but the Woman tapped her finger against the barrel of Sheila with intent and he wisely kept his tongue.
Sif gracefully dipped her head. "I apologize for all of this trouble, Mary-dono. And for your mistreatment, Rayleigh-san. My Father greatly overreacted after catching us in the middle of our," a glance at Rayleigh, a heated blush. "Ahem, activities."
Rayleigh raised his cuffed hands to abashedly rub the back of his neck, ignoring the burning green-eyed stare beside him.
"I-I'll, uhm, go and try to retrieve the keys to the shackles and collar. If you would, please restore my sisters to their original height, Mary-dono?" The Woman gave a muttered acquiescence and the lady Sif left, stepping as demurely as she could around her sisters still panicking body parts.
The sisters were remade whole again with a flick of a few fingers, and just as soon sent scattering out of the church by an ominous wink and grin from the Woman. The crooked priest had fled sometime when she wasn't looking.
Stepping down from the altar, Rayleigh yanked off a couple buttons on his fancy grooms shirt and glanced at her dubiously. "You don't actually think they'll give her the key, do you?"
"Not a chance," She brushed a heavy curl from her face. "In fact, I expect we'll be run out of town as soon as Roger is finished in the square. The crew will have to be on deck long before that."
"And? What about the key? Mary-anne, you realize if I step foot out of this church I'll—" he made an interesting gesture with his hands.
She clicked her tongue, turning an cruel eye towards him. "Bold of you to assume you'll be coming along. I had orders to assist, not to fix the mess you've gotten into. I've done my part."
Rayleigh paled.
"Mary-an—"
"Don't call me by that name—"
"Damn it, woman! This is no time for your morbid sense of humor!"
Her sword was at his neck then, causing his jaw to snap shut. Green eyes scrutinized the device clasped around him. "And why not? Why do I not get to indulge myself, when my free time was ruined because you couldn't keep your pants on."
Rayleigh winced. He knew there would be hell to pay. This is exactly why he had prayed to every god out there that someone else would've come to rescue him. Alas, he was reminded why he was an atheist.
He ran a hand through his blonde hair to compose himself, "Will a bottle of champagne from the sunniest isle of Paradise help ease me back into your good graces? It's smooth to the taste and sweeter than you."
"No," a brow raised and her green gaze flicked over him. "But a couple bottles of that dusty liquor you pocketed from that rotted cellar in Jazzpellie would do nurse this headache of mine quite nicely."
"You— fine. Fine. I won't be drinking it if I'm getting scrubbed off the walls anyways. Just get this thing off of me."
"Aces. I just need to hit it in the right spot, then." she tapped the sword to the collar, causing him to flinch. "Then you'll be a free man once more."
"Ya can't be serious." he asked.
Oh, but she was serious. Deathly so.
"My Pirate Magic doesn't work with these things, remember? Too chaotic. Besides, it can't be any harder than what we did on Ranmevir." she said, recalling the rather bombastic adventure where she had to perform an amateur surgery on several devices to free some pretty kidnapped brothel workers.
"I'm gonna die." the fearsome Vice-Captian realized with a grim sort of finality. "This is where I die. Finally killed by Mary-Anne's hand."
She arched a dark brow at him. "Do you doubt my aim to be true, Rayleigh?"
"Very." he swore, sweating now. His face had turned a sort of ashen grey. "You couldn't hit a target three feet in front of ya with a damn cannon! I don't think you've ever hit anything you've aimed for in your life."
The end of the wooden sword pressed the underside of his jaw, forcing him to look at her face. A distinctly new sort of dread hit him as he watched a slow, evil smile spread across blood-red lips.
"Not in this life, no." she agreed.
Roger, short on breath, fell on the deck beside her. She didn't spare his dirty and bloodied form a single glance, enjoying her view of the sun as it dyed the horizon in painter's hues. He crossed his arms behind his head, an ever-present smile plastered onto his face.
"Ray's mad at ya."
She clicked her tongue.
"Hmph. Not very grateful for someone who just had his life saved." A smile touched the rim of her bargained bottle. "Though I suspect he'll get over it by the time the stains come out from his small clothes."
Roger laughed loudly, nearly startling her with its suddenness. Though after all these years, she should have been used to these outbursts by now. She rolled her eyes, adjusted her hat and continued to silently drink her liquor as his bellows winded down into airless chuckles.
Then, there was a rare silence that drifted between them as the sun set that whispered of something greater. It set her nerves on edge. Roger was a storm from the time he was born to the day he will die, and so to hear silence was a sign of misfortune. It stretched and stretched on.
On the horizon, the sun burned as it descended and set the ocean alight.
"Hey, Annie," he asked, staring up at the plum painted skies. "Don't ya ever get bored of dying without doing anything all the time?"
Ah.
She finally turned an eye toward him to give him a long look, "Why the sudden interest? I thought you were only concerned with this life's events."
He stood up, slouching onto the railing next to her to look out at the sea. He scrunched his nose. "I'm Captain, I asked first."
Her gaze narrowed.
"Only Idiots get bored, foolish Captain. If there is one thing about my entropic existence between the worlds, it is that it is never dull." she replied only somewhat bitterly, causing her to take another drink.
He hummed, dark eyes reflecting burning skies. His contemplation set her nerves alight. Above their heads, the stars began to peek out from a blanket of violets and navy blue to watch their exchange.
"Your turn." she snapped. "Answer mine."
"When I die, I'll have lived with no regrets. Can you say the same, Annie?"
His gaze met hers, and she was starkly reminded of the mania that lived in it. The dangerous fire that drew in allies and opponents alike. The promise of things only imagination could create, but only he could deliver.
She hated when he looked at her like that.
"I have an order for you." he began.
"No." she quickly denied.
"What?! But you have to! I'm the Ca—"
"Shove it up your arse, Captain. Whatever it is you are about to demand of me: I refuse."
He pouted in a way that was ridiculous for a forty-something old man to do. Then, with quick hands and a quicker grin, he stole her liquor from her.
"You soggy bastard!" she reached for it and he used his height to advantage, dancing away and around the deck as she gave chase.
"All ya gotta do is hear me out, Annie." he wheedled. "C'moooon. I even promise to order everyone let you alone the rest of the night! Peace and Tranquillity, just like ya like!"
That gave her pause.
"The whole night?" she specified.
"You won't be bothered by a soul till dawn." he promised.
Her gaze was filled with suspicion and doubt, even as he made a show of proving his fingers weren't crossed behind his back. The stars watched on in interest, the sun long having dipped beyond sight to allow every one of the lights to gather and circle above head.
"Swear it."
He grinned recklessly, like a cat that's just come upon a cornered mouse.
"I swear on my honor as captain, you'll have the night for yourself."
"Say it then. Be quick," she snatched the bottle from his hand and waited. She reasoned to herself that whatever he wanted couldn't be that troublesome, could it? Not more troublesome than everything else was already. At most it would just be a temporary inconvenience on her.
The dangerous fire roared up in his eyes, and with all the seriousness he possessed he gave her one command she would come to wish she'd never heard spoken.
"Annie, I order you to live without regrets, in this life and all the next ones."
The stars laughed at her foolishness, and she would look back on this moment and curse Gol Roger for many years to come.
The Weasel and His Cat
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: *peeks in and waves* Hiiii sooo… it's been over a year. and then i come back to deliver you non naruto content in the naruto fic…. yup. Sorry? i really am so sorry it took so long. life has been, well. Simply put; rough. so i really am sorry if i made you wait too long for this, but hope you were entertained!
As a side note: if any of you feel like joining a Naruto Discord for fan fiction, could i interest you in ours? Me and my friends wanted to have a place where people could chill in a welcoming environment where we could all be nerds for Naruto :3 (You could also come and bully me about updates too r.i.p.) link below! if you have issues with it, you can also message me!
Naruto FanFiction Shinden— /MmkxrhKaVW
Until next time, dears!
-Nanami