Perospero goes through an early-life crisis over his newest sibling.

04.

The Apple Of Your Eye

Interlude: Candy Apples

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If you asked Perospero if he trusts their strange new sibling, all you'll receive is the most terrifying glare you'll ever seen in your life and a sharp: "What are you, stupid?"

Long story short: he doesn't.

(Yet.)

Because c'mon, just because you're both related by blood - which he reluctantly assumes so - does not mean he'll drop everything and immediately welcome this kid into his life. He's only known him for a grand total of five months. Which, in comparison, is a mere whiff of dust as to the rest of his siblings, whom he has personally held each in his arms since their birth.

Here is a fact: Trust is not something that comes by easily. Perospero knows this, has imprinted this hard-won lesson deep into his bones, because the amount of shit he has witnessed back on Mama's ship is unforgettable. So horrifying, in fact. And no, he will not elaborate, thank you very much.

(Such is life on the high seas. You either get used to it and learn how to adapt, or you die. And he's definitely not falling for a mere trick of betrayal. That'll be incredibly embarrassing. He has high standards, for fucks' sake.)

It's not that Ringo makes it hard. The weirdo sneaks around so much that he's suspicious by default. And honestly, he doesn't even like him! Who does he think he is, showing up after what, eight or so-more-years? He even has the gall to run away after their first night. Moved into the mountains even, forcing him to trek several hours and carry a baby just to track the bastard down. Which, infuriatingly, took him a grant total of two-and-a-half weeks - that's nineteen days worth of daylight! Ninety-six hours! - just to do so. Who the fuck does that?

(The trekking is just one thing. The anger bubbling in him, however - when he figured out that the baby twins refused to eat and sleep because they missed their shitty elder sibling who left them behind - is another story entirely.)

Perospero is the first and oldest son of the Charlotte Family. This, as such, is the singular cold, hard truth he holds tightly in his very hands and a position he will defend to his grave. He's practically watched his younger siblings grow up, chased and nagged and fought for, when Mama was away. Which is often, because she's busy pillaging and putting food on the table and defending the family so Perospero is the one who steps in, is the only one who steps in, because it is his irrefutable right as the eldest sibling. Because someone has to.

Hell will sooner freeze over before he hands it over to some deadbeat lost sibling. Just watch him.

…that is, if the other boy ever tries to in the first place. And isn't that an understatement of the century, because Ringo doesn't.

Perospero has been prepared. You would be, after living on a ship where the adults simply pat you on the head before taking whatever they wanted. Until he jams a knife into their gut, that is. Anything to establish your presence, when he barely reaches his Mama's Knees. God, what he wouldn't give to be eighteen right now-

-the point is, he had been prepared.

But Ringo simply doesn't. Doesn't challenge or fight him for authority, doesn't underestimate him. Doesn't even interrupts him, when Perospero had yelled, snarled, screamed, and the other boy simply nods and lets him finish talking. He stays outside his circle. He doesn't invade his space without permission. Hell, he even listens and follows his instructions on holding their youngest baby sisters. And since when do adults ever listen to him?

It baffles him. Bamboozles him, even. Kinda pisses him off, because while he will never ever admit in his entire life (no way!), it's actually really… convenient. Having someone who respect you feels good, almost nice in a way. A genuine one, too, with none of the condescending simper (like their many nannies) or even sarcastically humoring (like the pirates who overestimates themselves). Especially when they're older. He's never had someone older than him that actually listens to him.

(No indulgent cooing either, like how Mama does when she wants you to perform something to her satisfaction.)

Scratch that- it actually pisses him off. Not the listening part, mind you. He recognizes and appreciates what it is. Still, it nags at him at the back of his mind whenever Ringo stops what he's doing and listens to him. Makes his hackles rise, and start the churning of his guts.

Perospero's not stupid. He's waiting for the inevitable trick that comes once he lets his guard down. Because nothing in life is ever this convenient.

Here's the thing: a healthy dose of paranoia is necessary when you live among cutthroats and murderers and pirates. The rest of his siblings are too young to understand. So it is only right that he takes their place and be paranoid on their behalf, until the day they learnt it for themselves.

…and now his problem, to his horror, is that he's starting to let his guard down.

It's not because he's starting to go soft. Ringo sulks and scoots around so much, they must think Perospero is blind to not notice. The boy is so easy to read that he can't be- probably not doing it on purpose. Just that he's a horrible liar. So horrible, in fact, that he'd bypassed suspicious to plain old pathetic. Does the dumbass even know they have a noticeable tell whenever they're lying?

(Granted, the tell is quite… unusual that nobody would had notice it. But Peropero has had seven years of babysitting under his belt for all seventeen-now-nineteen of his younger siblings, and still counting. Of course he'd notice. What do you take him for?)

And the funny thing is that the lies are not even… horrible. They're irrelevant. So minor , like the time when he snuck extra apples to Compote, or surprised her with stir-fried wild mushrooms. Or when he's had to change Broyé's diapers and clearly didn't want to but he still did it anyway, with Perospero barking instructions by his side.

Or the fact that he's learning how to cook different dishes just to keep up with Compote's growing appetite.

Or the fact that he's sneaking into town every night to gather supplies and fixing up the shack, so the baby twins would have a cool spot to stay whenever they visit.

Or, or- he's not even sure what to add when there's just so many.

He's offended, in fact. Irritated on their behalf, because if you intend to lie for whatever reasons, at least learn how to do a better job at it , for fucks' sake. A single lie can save or skin you. So you better make it work. Better make it count.

Which brings him back to the present, because the dumbass is doing it again.

"Stop that," Perospero snaps, before he can help himself.

Sitting across from him on the log, Ringo is in the middle of spooning some potatoes to his lips, balancing the bowl on his lap. Unflatteringly, he goes, "Gurk- huh?"

"You rub your left thumb against your index when you lie," Perospero says, flatly. "Either get rid of it or I'll call you out, your choice. Now out with it already."

(There's also another tell: a slight intake of air, so soft that it's barely audible or noticeable, before Ringo smooths his expression into something neutral and relaxed. But Perospero isn't stupid enough to give away all his cards on hand. This he keeps to himself.)

Ringo, for all his worth, blinks purposefully once and relaxes his left hand, resting it on his lap. He takes the chance to chew thoughtfully on his spoonful, the perfect picture of air-headed stupidity, before he finally says: "What?"

"Try again."

"...actually, can you repeat your question again?"

Oh for- "You've been jittery lately, and it's always when you return from town," Perospero scoffs. Then he meets the other's eyes and holds his gaze. "Either someone's following you or you've gotten yourself involved in something, so out with it already."

Here, Ringo smiles. "I pity Compote whenever she decides to get you surprise sweets in the future."

"Which is why you will never tell her," Perospero snipes. He eyes the beach, where the distant figure of his sister is pulverizing another poor rock. Good, she's too far away to hear them. "Because I delight myself with knowing the surprise without ruining it for her."

"That's fair." Ringo nods. "You're right on your first guess. Someone's following me."

Hm. "Should I be concerned?"

"No, actually. I don't think so," Ringo scrunches. Huh, it actually resembles Cracker when he being spoon-fed something he dislikes. "It's just… how should I put this…"

Perospero shifts, leaning his chin on his hand, and raises an eyebrow. Go on.

"...There was one at first. Think it's a kid- they'd follow me whenever I drop by the markets, and they managed to track me to the edge of the forest. Even when I'm throwing them off on purpose. It's kind of impressive, actually."

"Mm-hmm."

"And then," Ringo leans in slightly to whisper, " Another one showed up."

Perospero pauses.

"I didn't think much of it at first, since it's still easy to lose them after just a couple of turns. But guess what," Ringo massages his fingers into his forehead. "Then a third one showed up just last month, and I can't throw them off anymore ."

Well now, doesn't that sounds familiar .

Ringo sighs: "It's like- no matter how hard I try, no matter how many turns or alleys or straight up running I do, they always pop up again. Within the hour, mind you- just the other day I had to sprint into the forest and they were on my tail for a full thirty minutes. It's like they have a dog or a tracker or- like that thing you used to do- "

Oh. It clicks in his mind before he knows it.

And then Perospero can't help it. He bursts out cackling, just as Ringo snaps his mouth shut and squints in that funny way that accentuates his pink eyebrows against the dyed black hair: "...you know them."

He grins. "So I do. Can't blame us when you're so easy to follow, perorin."

"Not my fault when you all have some sort of natural tracker you're born with- god," Ringo groans. "Who is it this time? When will I escape my suffering?"

"Never, if I can help it." Perospero carefully notes the unsaid what did I do to deserve it and ignores it for his benefit. At least Ringo has the decency to not deny that. "That's just the triplets, by the way. And good luck- Katakuri's an even better tracker than I am, perorin!"

"Ugh, great to know."

"It's funny because Oven and Daifuku only drag him in as a last resort so it must have been quite a chase-"

"Thanks to you, actually."

"-And you doomed yourself when you ran from those two in the first place." Perospero reaches over to pat Ringo on the shoulders, because this is absolutely hilarious. Especially when he has personally experienced it himself. "Good luck, you'll need it."

Brûlée, at this moment, decides to stir from her nap in his arms and immediately babbles. And it is here he notices sky reddening into the evening. It's about time for them to go back.

( Back. Not home . That title belongs to the ship, and he'll rather die then relinquish that before Mama comes back.)

Conversation lapses, yet just as easily- Ringo relaxes. He slowly picks his way to the cooking campfire, and starts packing the rest of the day's dinner away: Potatoes and diced vegetables mixed with eggs, grilled into huge pancakes twice the size of his face. Carefully, the other boy layers each cake onto each other, easily reaching a stack of ten, and then wraps the cloth up with a single neat yet loose tie at the top.

Then he holds it out for him, left hand cradling the bottom of the package. "Wash it and bring it back to me the next time you visit, yeah?"

(Here's the secret. It's not the fact that Ringo shares food or knowledge as easy as breathing that baffles him. Rather, it's that the other boy is cooking so much on purpose. Perospero had been careful not to give away any of his weakness. Hell, he hadn't even asked for help, not at all.

And yet.

What was just after-training meals prepared for Compote became constant leftovers pressed into his hands. Grilled potatoes, rich fatty stew, or even that one memorable night where Ringo used the remaining animal fat to fry up some of the meat and vegetables. They're not as good as the food prepared by Chef Streusen. Far from it, actually. Right now, Ringo is limited up to three ingredients, seasoning excluded, and anything more ends up in an inedible burnt pile of soot. To someone like Perospero and his siblings, who has nearly seven years of tasting such luxury, the comparison would be unfair.

Perospero, of course, is raised with proper manners and will never waste food because they're not savages. So he takes it, and half of it is rooted in the truth that his siblings would appreciate the food. Needed it, in fact. Their nannies had never understood that they all needed extra portions unlike normal kids. The Quintuplets, especially, are one. Opera was particularly delighted with the extra treats he brought back. Amande and her sisters look less like skin-clad bones and more like healthy kids. Custard even stopped waking up in the middle of the night to sneak into the kitchen for leftover fruits.

Hell, even his own pants aren't as loose as before.

Perospero's absolutely sure that Ringo is not aware of it. Compote likely hadn't shared, either, because she is already grateful for the free training sessions. She's not used to it, asking for help. All of them aren't. It's a strange experience.

Still, it doesn't matter. It not like he even asked in the first place. Ringo hadn't, too. Just gave him the extra food one evening without any reasoning and the pattern was since established. And Perospero hadn't brought it up either, because he's not stupid enough to turn down free food.

It should have pissed him off. But all that anger had twisted three-hundred and sixty degrees and replaced by sheer confusion. Because it never felt like he was owing a favor to the other boy.

Here's another secret: He's comforted by it, in some way.)

Perospero takes it, balancing the bulk of the package on his hips. "What do you think I am, a hooligan? Of course I'll wash it. I'll even throw in scented soap if it makes you less jittery."

"Of course you need soap." Ringo says, completely neutral. The slight crinkle in his eyes, however, tells him otherwise. "How else are you gonna get the oil stains out?"

"Don't you sass me."

"Alright, alright."

By the time Compote joins them, barreling into him carelessly (her control has gotten so much better now that she's able to touch him, he sure that she can pick up Zuccotto and the baby twins soon enough, and isn't that saying something?), Ringo's already halfway done cleaning up the campfire. Good thing he hasn't paid any attention to the early-life crisis Perospero is feeling right now. He doesn't think he can handle it. They aren't at that point of kinship yet.

But to tell the truth, he's not even sure if he should still be angry. Maybe he isn't even mad anymore. The triplets are already stalking their newest sibling- he must have given his unspoken approval at some point. Otherwise, Katakuri would had never made his move.

…He's definitely gotten soft.

"Hey," He calls out instead, refusing to dwell on it. "Word of advice? Don't wrestle them- Katakuri especially. They bite."

The confused yet horrified look on Ringo's face makes him cackle all the way back into town.

.

.

If you've ever asked Perospero if he trusts their strange new sibling five months back, all you'll get is a resounding: "No fucking way."

But if you ask him now, he'll hesitate, and says instead: "Not yet."

And if you're smart, you'll ask Compote, and she'll laugh and say: "One of these days, he will."

.

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A/N:

why do I write Perospero so repressed and angry it's hilarious

to clarify, ringo is just doing whatever they're doing bc they're just? nice like that? Perospero is just overthinking here. though, the entire point of this fic is for me to explore the difference in povs of each character and how ringo's nonchalant actions will affect the main storyline through their interactions. needless to say, Totto land arc in this world is gonna be a much more difficult arc for the strawhats to face haha

i'm happy to say that we are officially heading into the second arc after this (i can finally write katakuri!). the whole fic has been outlined and the ending is already decided. each arc will be 3 chapters with an interlude of another character's pov of ringo

unfortunately i cannot promise when i will update next since life has been busy for me so far (working full-time and studying my degree part-time oof)