Thank you's to these mmm~ lovely candies, mmm~: Girl-luvs-manga, Perpetual Concern, Katharonie, 10th Squad 3rd Seat, camierose, butterflyfreak, Mai Kusakabe, Guest 13, xXxWolvesInTheNightxXx, LaraLuvKakashi, Alkitty, Shiningheart of Thunderclan, Daniella, Blue, Yougram, Sheep, Portgas D. Paula, CameronEmma, annaADDICTED, and KittyWillCutYou.
—
methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #5
in the company of dead men
—
Death stared up at her, black and gaping, jaws wide open.
The pain in her hands had frozen over and her lungs throbbed, like a heavy weight being slowly, methodically jammed into her chest. Something brushed her leg. She jolted, unable to stop swimming but instinctively searching for the glowing yellow eyes of a Sea King or a shar—
Her ankle jerked back and whirled Sophie around, bubbles bursting from her nose. A viselike grip clutched at her waist. She swallowed down a frantic scream, no, no, I'd rather drown, he said they'd find my body, at the very least I'd be with sensei again—
Her feet kicked out, glanced off the side of something, and it attacked, hauling her through the water—
And then Sophie was flung unceremoniously onto the sand.
She immediately rolled on all fours and retched seawater. Her hands fisted, sand squeezing out of the spaces between her fingers, the raw, burned flesh angry and throbbing. Pain was good, pain meant she was still alive.
Inhaling rapidly, Sophie peeled away the clumps of hair plastered across her face and gazed up at her savior. The man was setting his hat back on his head and wore a familiar, smiley-faced insignia on his chest. She wanted to both laugh and cry at the same time.
Instead, she clambered to her feet and stammered, "W-w-why did y-you s-s-save me?"
"You have my captain's favorite scalpel," Penguin Hat responded, pulling on his boots. "He'd bitch at me for days if I'd let it get away."
On the pretext of wringing out her shirt, she did a quick, inconspicuous check on her satchel. Though soaking wet, the book and scalpel were still there. She kicked off her own boots and dumped out the water and flopping fish. At least all the swamp mulch had been washed away, a small consolation.
Penguin Hat lingered just behind her. "What were you trying to do, escape by swimming?"
"No! As if I'd actually try to drown myself! It was that horrible Shichibukai—Donquixote Doflamingo!"
His jaw dropped. "You—what—wait… what?"
"I thought he was sent to help put out the fire! And next thing you know, he's making townspeople dance and sending me off to drown!" Sophie threw her hands up. "Honestly, I have no idea what's going on."
"Damn, this is getting troublesome," Penguin muttered.
Sophie didn't hear him, too focused on the fire still blazing through Gator Town. It had blackened over half the town and was encroaching quickly upon Nellie's inn, nearing the swamp where all the trees were awaiting destruction. Dread unfurled in her stomach.
"The methane," she whispered.
"Methane?"
"The methane! CH4 c-combined with heat, it's diluted but not d-d-diluted enough, there's t-t-too m-much methane, the fire will—five p-point one percent atmospheric amount—"
"Slow down! I can't tell what you're—"
"People are still back there, we have to w-warn them!" Sophie rammed on her boots and scrambled over the beach. "Gator Town's going to e-explode!"
"Oi! You're not serious!"
"Decayed matter in th-the swamp generates methane!" she bellowed over her shoulder, "It's a h-h-huge pit of natural gas! If the swamp starts t-to burn, the whole thing will—"
Sophie saw the explosion before she heard it. Massive flames erupted from the swamp, shooting high into the air, swallowing trees in a burning blue coffin (no no no no) taste of fire dripped like honey into her throat (this can't be happening this can't) will-o'-the-wisps and foxfire and alligators and Nellie—
She turned around and screamed, "COVER YOUR EARS!"
A rush of heat blasted through the cold ocean breeze, followed by the thundering clap of the explosion. Broken tree branches and pieces of timber littered the ground. The pirate had just barely heard her—he, too, laid on the ground with his hands over his head.
Curled up on the sand, Sophie shakily lowered her arms and listened to the flames crackle.
It was too late.
Natural gas fires could not be put out by water. They had to wait for it to burn out completely, and on an island like this… it might take hours… or days…
After a beat of silence, he hastily scrambled to his feet. Sophie sat up at a much slower pace; she was numb with shock, the same dry-eyed, deadened numbness that seized her all those weeks.
And then she was blinking at Penguin Hat's proffered hand. Hesitant, Sophie held out hers, smeared with red as they were, and he grimaced. He grabbed her wrist instead and hauled her upright. She could still feel the firm, scarred toughness of his skin after he let go.
"How did you know that was going to happen?" he asked, a bit uncertainly.
"I'm a chemist." It sounded strange and heavy on her tongue. How often had she'd said those words, and how often had they proved to be even remotely useful?
"Right. Well. There's not much time left." He stepped closer, silhouette outlined in blue. "Give me the scalpel."
A thought crossed her mind: what if the pirate killed her after he got what he wanted? Knowing his captain… And even if he didn't, she'd be stuck on an island that was being razed down by an explosive wildfire. What could do Sophie do? Relinquish the scalpel and let him leave her to die? She'd been poisoned, threatened, bombed at, and had nearly drowned twice all in the one week she'd been on her own in the Grand Line. And now, after all of that, she'd willingly accept this death? No. Not a chance in hell.
Sophie felt lightheaded, like she was floating slightly out of her body. She was a World Government scientist. She was always, constantly in control. She had to be, because one little slip up could destroy an entire experiment… for years and years, she had suffered under the pressure of talent, bled and burned for the sake… for the sake of…
For your job? For Hippo-sensei? the voice in her head whispered. Look at how much those two have helped. Ever since the war, her tightly-held grip on life had been slowly wrangled away, piece by piece… and now, for the time in her life, Sophie was the subject of the experiment and could do nothing but watch the world collapse around her.
She raised her eyes to Penguin Hat. There was no time for self-pity. No time for hesitation.
"I'll give you the scalpel on one condition. Take me with you to the next island. All of Crawfish is a ticking time bomb. I'm not going to survive if I stay."
"What makes you think I won't just take the scalpel from you right now?"
"Because there's an ocean fifteen feet away, and I'm a fast runner."
He didn't look impressed. "I'll tackle you again."
"You'd do so with the chance that I'll toss your captain's favorite scalpel into the ocean. Besides, you caught me by surprise the first time—now I'm expecting it. Me onboard your submarine, or you losing the scalpel. Which bet are you willing to take?"
He crossed his arms, a bit affronted. "Are you seriously threatening me? I saved your life."
"I'm a scientist," Sophie retorted, "not a saint."
The blue flames stretched their shadows across the sand. Penguin Hat was the first to look away.
"Right," he conceded with a reluctant sigh. "The Heart Pirates have ourselves a hitchhiker. Shachi is going to love this…"
With a relieved smile, she returned the scalpel. "Thank you."
Two spots of pink appeared on his cheeks and he abruptly turned around, muttering under his breath. Sophie took one last glance back at Gator Town. It was engulfed by a blaze of cerulean, flames licking at the underbelly of the night sky. There would be nothing left come morning. Gator Town was gone. Romarin the bike was gone. Maybe the whole island would be gone.
She turned her back on the burning town and caught up to Penguin Hat.
"Before you get any ideas, my captain'll decide what's to do with you," he warned. "Don't blame me if he tries to dissect you again."
"He won't," Sophie replied in a voice more confident than she felt. "Because I know a way into Cat's Eye Island." After another brief silence, she turned to him and said, "By the way, I'm Sophie."
"Penguin."
"…Really?"
"You got a problem with that?"
Yes, because 'Penguin' was much too cute a name for what she'd imagined as Trafalgar Law's burly, pox-ridden crewmates. Sophie thought about it for a second and shrugged.
"Nah. Nice to meet you, Penguin-san."
—
The deck of the submarine was bustling with movement when Sophie and Penguin arrived. It was docked in a tiny bay on the western shore of the beach, floating beside a long, crooked pier. Sophie kept to Penguin's shadow and swallowed nervously. Be cool. Cool like an Aokiji ice cube. Cool like an Aokiji snowman. I've never actually built a snowman before… NO STOP THIS IS TOTALLY NOT THE TIME.
One of the men noticed Penguin. "You're late! We're on a tight schedule here!"
"Shut up, Shachi!" another shouted. "I smell her on him. You bastard, Penguin, you've been with a woman!"
Penguin blushed. "Well…"
She nearly tripped over a broken plank. "Don't agree!"
Law froze as he was about to descend the sub. Shachi paused, brow furrowing in recognition.
Mangoes. There was nothing else for it.
Steeling herself, Sophie stepped forward. The pirates stared down at her.
"Um. Hello. It's me again. But you probably already know that… look, I'm just as surprised as you are—that I'm here, I mean. Trust me, I'd rather be anywhere than here! No, Sophie, that's too far. Uh. Pineapples. Okay." She sucked in a very deep breath, as if trying to inflate her embarrassment away. "I kind of—I mean, I really need a f-f-favor. The port is burning, ships are on fire, and I have no other way of leaving. So… um… I—it's just—oh, screw it—TRAFALGAR LAW! PLEASE GIVE ME A LIFT TO THE NEXT ISLAND YOU'RE SAILING TO!"
She sagged over her knees, wheezing. Penguin's shoulders quivered.
"Are you laughing."
"No," Penguin choked out and had to tug the ear flaps of his hat lower.
"Can you step a bit closer to the light?" one pirate called.
Sophie blinked. "Light?"
The lamps on the sub flickered on, half-blinding her. Sophie cringed and stumbled back a few steps, her vision swimming. Rotten mangos, of all the times to see her… she was a horrendous, sandy mess with drenched clothes clinging to her skin. But she couldn't back down now.
"In r-return, I'll tell you about the secret of Cat's Eye Island."
To her enormous surprise, loud cheers erupted from the crew. "Captain, pleaaaase!"
Sophie almost took a step back. The pirates really seemed to want to get to that island, though for what reason she had no idea.
Law evaluated her. "From what I've gathered, you're of no physical danger to us." Well, ouch. "However… the moment—the moment—you cause trouble… you'll wish I'd killed you at the swamp." He turned to his men. "Anchors up! We're leaving now!"
"CAPTAAAAIINN!"
Sophie released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Penguin beckoned her over. The pirates were alarmingly eager to help Sophie onboard, but they didn't seem like they were about to stage a violent bloodbath—in fact, they didn't seem like crewmates of Trafalgar Law's at all (actually, she had suspicions the Heart Pirates were a brigade of sociopaths in evil white lab coats). All the smiles were rather… perplexing.
"Those are some awful burns!" one pirate in a grey cap exclaimed. "You should have the captain inspect that."
She hit her hands behind her back. "Uh—it's nothing."
He curled his mustache. "If you say so, little lady! I am Pescado Manta! It is an honor to be in your presence!"
"Yes, of course—ah, wait! I mean! Th-th-thank you!" Manners, Sophie, manners…
"Hai Xing," a dark-haired pirate wearing a newsboy cap muttered. "Don't expect you to remember it, though, no one ever does…"
Sunglasses popped up. "Sophie-chan, right? I'm Shachi! Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. The situation was, you know, kind of weird."
Sophie hastily bowed. "Don't worry about it. It's, um, nice to finally meet you… sort of…"
A voice roared from the bass tube. "Get to your stations, lazy punkasses! We're setting sail!"
"Watch your mouth! We have a lady onboard!"
Sophie's weak, stammering protests went unheard.
"I-i-i-is that so? H-hello, my name is Anko, age twenty-three, helmsman, blood type X. I like to eat seaweed noodles, and my hobbies are—"
"Hey, I thought we were supposed to be setting sail!? Don't mind him, Anko has that speech prepared for every woman he meets." Shachi smiled winningly and ignored the plethora of angry spluttering. "Come on, Sophie-chan."
They ushered her inside. "Careful, careful, those stairs can be slippery, stop smelling her, dummy, you'll get sand all over your nose…" She went along, chuckling with a rather fixed smile, completely bewildered by the attention and unsure if she should be watching out for a saw to come swinging at her out of nowhere.
The pirates dispersed down the hallway and ladders, shouting their goodbyes to Sophie. Only Shachi lingered behind.
Anko's voice echoed through the submarine. "Navigation sensors are on. Air tanks are full. Temperature is stable. All systems are go."
There was a clicking sound from the door, like a lock snapping in place. The metal under her feet shifted slightly and Sophie braced herself against cold steel pipes. Water climbed above the portholes, and as she watched the ocean rise, she had a sudden impulse to hold her breath. Fish flicked past the window and then the submarine's lamps switched off.
Crushing black.
Body won't stop, oh god someone please help, need air can't breathe don't want to die—
Her breath hitched. An cold, unnatural chill seeped down her neck. It's over, Sophie reminded herself, because her hands wouldn't stop shaking, it's over, it's—
"Pretty cool, right?"
She glanced at Shachi and nodded. "Amazing, actually. To think only a wall of steel separates us and the ocean…"
"This wall of steel is pretty solid." He rapped the metal with his knuckles. "It won't break so easily. Anyway, I'm supposed to be in the engine room. Sophie-chan—"
"Chemist-ya."
Those two words sent prickles of fear up her spine. Ugh, that weird 'Chemist-ya' again… Sophie glanced over her shoulder. On the other side of the hallway, Law jerked his head, motioning her over. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed around his nodachi.
"See ya around," Shachi said with an amiable grin and a wave.
Hopefully.
With a reluctant sigh, she dragged her feet over to Law—his entire crew was running around the sub; didn't he have anything to do? Was bullying helpless chemists the only thing on his agenda?
Sophie didn't bother forcing a smile. "How may I help the captain?" she asked dully.
"The captain would like to show you to your room."
She stepped away. "Would that be code for 'torture chamber'?"
"It's code for 'the place you'll be sleeping in'. Unless you'd prefer my men's cabin?"
"I'll go with the first choice," Sophie said quickly.
"Smart of you, Miss."
Discomfited, she focused on counting the steps as they walked down the hallway. Her satchel was a reassuring weight on her shoulder; worse comes to worse, she could always threaten the book's livelihood. Hopefully she didn't overestimate how desperate these pirates were for some answers… Sophie looked down at her boots, searching for something to break the uncomfortable silence.
Deciding she couldn't stand the heavy tension anymore, Sophie coughed to get his attention. "This really is… um, nice of you, Law-san. I'm grateful. Truly."
"That's good to hear. I enjoy having others indebted to me," he replied with an even smile. Something drew his gaze downward… right at her burned hands she held gingerly at her side. Law assessed that with disturbing calm. "You're wounded."
She hid her hands behind her back. "No, I'm not."
Quick as a snake, he grabbed her wrist and held them to the light. From palm to finger, shiny red welts covered almost the entirety of her hand.
"Oh," Sophie said in a tiny voice, "those wounds."
"You shouldn't lie to a doctor," Law told her, carefully examining the burns. "Your hands will be infected soon. There will be discoloration and discharge, and the burn may extend deep into the skin. You also might be stricken with sudden shock… potentially fatal, due to dehydration."
"If you try to help me, I am c-c-c-confident two or three fingers will disappear in the process," she snarled, trying to tug back her hand.
He laughed softly. "It's better than all ten."
Horror curled in the pit of her stomach. "W-w-wait… you w-wouldn't… you wouldn't…"
"Aren't you taking this too lightly? You don't seem to care about your body at all. You don't mind losing one or two hands, is that it?"
"Th-that's… that's not…" Sophie pressed flush against the wall and had a horrible flashback to the swamp, the operating table, parathion. "D-d-don't c-c-come n-near me," she gasped, cringing away as far as she could. Anymore and she was likely to fall right through the wall. "Please, please, d-don't—"
"Relax, Chemist-ya. It'll all be over soon."
His hand lashed out. There was a prickle of pain on her neck and Sophie fell into a haze of nothingness.
Pineapples, not again…
—
Sophie woke up to a blurry IV drip and a strange sense of déjà vu.
A machine beeped repeatedly next to her. The respirator attached over her mouth misted as she breathed in time to the heart machine. Hesitant, Sophie tried to move her stiff fingers and pain laced through her bones.
Oh god, no.
She shot upright. Her arms were bound with bandages up to her elbows. Onetwothreefourfivesixsevene ightnineten. She still had ten fingers. Sophie wiggled her toes. Yes, and ten toes, too. She felt her face. It all seemed to be in order. No eyes taken, no mouth carved up, no nose stitched onto her forehead…
"Yo," Law greeted.
Sophie nearly jumped out of her skin. The pirate lounged in a swivel chair, a stethoscope hanging from his neck, twirling a quill around his thumb. He hadn't stuck her in the operating room again; that was a relief (though with the current circumstances, it didn't exactly count for much). The sick bay was larger, hospital beds lining the walls and a desk situated in the corner, beside Sophie; it was strewn with stacks of books, ink-stained quills, and papers. Her forehead creased. Unclean. Way, way too unclean…
"You suffered minor carbon monoxide poisoning," he informed, breaking her inner diatribe against the poor desk. "I treated the burns on your hands—along with many of your older wounds that had opened. It should all heal within the week, Chemist-ya."
Her skin prickled. With some difficulty, Sophie pulled the respirator mask off. "I suppose I should thank you for not taking any of my fingers," she said stiffly.
"I suppose you should. I like others feeling indebted towards me, remember?"
"Well, when you put it like that," she rolled her eyes, "thank you for forcibly knocking me unconscious and treating my wounds under my explicit disapproval."
Law rested his cheek on his knuckles and said, after a beat, "Do you bitch at everyone who saves your life?"
Sophie turned beet-red and began stammering nonsensically at very loud volume.
"You won't be harmed unless you go out of your way to ask for it. You're my guest, after all." His voice was quiet in the assurance. Too intelligent, this pirate, all controlled calculations and relaxed refinement. Was there anything about him that was... human? He looked like a man who could make no mistake.
But he did make a mistake, Sophie reminded herself. He failed to kill me. I escaped. And I'm alive. What must he feel, to look at me and see his own errors?
Calming herself, she replied, "Guest is such a malleable word."
The caution did not seem to be lost on him. "I swear it." He tilted his head and added, "Upon any honor you think me of having."
Which was none. Hm. Wonderful.
"There's food." He indicated toward a small bowl of soup next to the bed. "You've slept about fifteen hours. You need your nutrients, Chemist-ya."
"Just call me Sophie," she burst out, before she could think about regretting it. "Just Sophie is fine. Even at work people just called me 'brat' or 'kid' or 'hey, you'."
"…Since you asked so nicely, Sophie." She flinched and colored a sickening shade of green, clearly realizing the gaffe she unwittingly made. Law wheeled over to her, smiling mildly. "Your bosses really should have better manners."
"Oh—they were my subordinates, actuaaugh!"
He stuck a tongue depressor in her mouth. Law shone a light down Sophie's throat, ignoring her warbled choke. Just when she was about to do something violent and hysterical, he replaced the tongue depressor with a spoonful of soup. Sophie swallowed… and holy mangoes, it might've been the three months of military rations talking, but that was the best thing she'd ever tasted.
"So… so yummy…" She made little grabby motions, but Law set the bowl out of her reach. "But whyyyy? I'm injured. I need my nutrients."
"Stay still and don't blink," he ordered, and shone the light in her eyes. Sophie let him, jiggling her leg restlessly, even when he was pulling on her face and feeling up her throat with the perfect grip for strangulation. After he was done with that, Law set the stethoscope in his ears. "Breathe in."
Her hospital gown wrinkled as Law listened to her heartbeat. A part of her was mildly anxious at where his hands were moving towards, the other part pointed out that it wasn't like he was seeing anything new (that part was quickly murdered and stuffed into a dark closet), and a third part was focused on the stethoscope… Sophie remembered when she accidentally almost ruptured Hippo's eardrums when she was a kid… she needed to flick the black diaphragm really hard—
("The moment—the moment—you cause trouble… you'll wish I'd killed you at the swamp.")
Sophie swallowed and pressed her hands together.
"Respiratory and circulatory signs are good. Heart rate normal, and your lungs are healing from the smoke damage." He eased the IV needle out of the crook of her elbow and quickly wrapped on a bandage strip.
"Right. Thank you." She was determined to show she was not 'bitching'. Sophie returned to the soup and muttered in-between gulps, "Actually, I suppose I have that Shichibukai to thank for my new scars."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "…You really saw Doflamingo?"
"Hey, I have nothing to gain by making this up." But to be fair, it sounded absolutely crazy. With a sigh, Sophie set the bowl down. "I know what I saw. It was him, it was definitely—but I just… can't comprehend it. How is setting a peaceful island on fire profitable? Crawfish only has three things of notable importance: swamp, mud, and houses that are barely managing to stay upright. There are no valuables, no gold… so what's the point?"
Law kicked his feet on the desk. "Senseless destruction doesn't need a point. They'll cover the fire up by blaming it on my crew. Anyone who knows of the Shichibukai's involvement is already dead—except you, of course. Doflamingo was careless." There was something… odd in his small smile. Something like satisfaction.
Sophie's head ached. "But—but the Shichibukai are… they're supposed to be righteous. Soldiers of justice."
"Justice," he scoffed. "Justice is written by the conquerors. The World Government has been fortunate enough to be on the winning side of all wars in recent history—that's where your justice stems from. It's a fabricated web of lies used by weaklings to rationalize each other's actions. This world is ruled by strength and influence. If you keep on thinking like an idealist, you'll follow Crawfish Island to the grave."
She stared down at her hands. She didn't know why his words stung so much, but it did.
"I'm not an idealist."
"Oh?"
"It's different for you," Sophie spat, "you're a pirate, you don't have anything to believe in. But me, I've grown up with the World Government. if I don't trust in this, this fundamental thing, then what did I fight for? What was Vira? They have a good reason. They must have a good reason. I've—" she swallowed and said in a voice painfully small, "…a lot of people gave up their lives for them."
There was a small, peculiar sound, like a… scoff, almost. Law's hat had fallen over his eyes and his mouth was unsmiling.
"The World Government isn't horrible, you know," Sophie said with an angry twist of her lips. "They protect people—innocent people—from those who would do them harm. Those such as yourself."
"And Doflamingo," he interjected. "You work for hypocrites and I doubt I'd find many marines who share the same pure sentiments."
"First! I am not a marine. And second, be that as it may they are still working for justice. You wanna talk hypocrisy? A doctor's duty is to save lives, and yet as a pirate you kill people—nearly killed me. Go ahead and explain that one, Law-san."
"It's dangerous to label others based on your preconceived notions." He pulled his hat back to stare her down. "Doesn't matter what I am—I do what I want. I don't bear the burdens of society. I don't have a duty to uphold. I bow down to no one."
She glared. "Doesn't that just make you irresponsible?"
"It makes me free, Sophie-ya," Law replied sharply. "Perhaps freer than you will ever be."
"…Yeah," Sophie murmured, because all things considered, "I think so, too." She raised her chin. "But I chose this path of my own will and no one, not even the famous Surgeon of Death, can look down on me for that."
There was no trace of surprise in his expression, no amazement or incredulity. But then the side of his mouth crooked up in that slick half-smile, and when he looked at her Sophie balled her fists tight against her stomach but didn't glance away.
"Good answer," Law said, and she had a few seconds to contemplate how weird this guy was before he continued, "The Tale of Apolleon. I read it."
He nodded at a thin, mustard-yellow storybook lay on his desk.
"Wha—hey, wait—you looked through my satchel!"
Law had the audacity to ignore her as he held up The Tale of Apolleon in all its torn and brittle unglory. "You know how you spoke of the secret of Cat's Eye?"
"Yeah?"
"It's from a fairytale."
"…Yeah."
He leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. "This is the part where I listen to your reasoning and then decide whether I want to butcher you or not."
Sophie's eye twitched. Law… sounded serious.
"Apolleon could be Cat's Eye if you think of it as a moving island. Not unheard of. Or perhaps Crawfish and Cat's Eye were once one island, and then broke apart later due to geological forces… it would explain the close relationship they had before Khanwari took over. They would've had to drift here from South Blue—but why not? Stranger things have happened in this world." Yes, like the doctor from Pantano Town had told her. "Regardless, the tale says the way into the island is from beneath. 'In the dead of night, the king and his troops—'"
"—'carved an opening in the belly of the cat.'"
"Yes. Most legends are simply exaggerated history, aggrandized by time. There really may be an entrance underneath the island. And because of Khanwari's defenses, it's most likely the only way. Don't waste time doubting. This is the Grand Line; common sense is never enough to survive."
He appraised her with a hooded gaze. Sophie had been subject to scrutiny many times before… it was stifling, but nothing new. This time, however, she couldn't read anything from Law's expression.
All he said was, "I'll save the butchering for another day. We'll steer a course for Cat's Eye."
The door crashed open. "Captain! This was the forty-eighth time Shachi asked me to—"
Penguin stopped short. Sophie waved a little, but he looked away.
"Uh… never mind… it was something stupid."
"This is good timing, actually." Law nodded at Sophie. "Your clothes are in your bag. Penguin, show our guest to…" he smiled grimly and lightning flashed in the background, "the storeroom."
She sighed. That sounded menacing.
Nevertheless, Sophie swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her satchel was lying against the wall; she picked it up and, just in case, searched through its contents. Clothes, boots, and… oh no he didn't… She swung around. "Where's my lighter?"
He tilted his hat over his eyes. "As if I'm going to give you a weapon. Nice try."
Sophie was promptly reminded of the seventy-five reasons why she hated Trafalgar Law.
"But that's—that's my favorite… look, I'd have to be completely deranged to harm anyone—"
"I'll return it when we reach land. Besides, as a doctor, I am inclined to warn you about the hazardous effects of smoking." Law held up a familiar silver instrument. "Turnabout's fair play, isn't it?"
"I don't even have a cig—" She stopped abruptly; her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat. Of course it hadn't just been about payback, how could she not have seen? "You followed me across an island, had two of your men tail me, and attacked me in the swamp… all for a scalpel?"
"It's a good scalpel."
And she was left gaping at the closed door. "You—you're positively infuriating, you know that!?"
"This way," Penguin said, nodding down the corridor.
"How the—I can't believe you'd—for a scalpel, honestly—!"
"Come on."
He sounded exasperated. It took all of Sophie's strength to tear her gaze away from the door and trudge after him. She gave up the issue—pirates could think whatever they wanted, it didn't matter to her because they were all wrong and weird and some—she side-eyed Penguin, admitting silently to herself—and some were half-decent people.
But that certainly didn't apply to their captain.
They walked in silence. Sophie was grateful she didn't meet any of the other pirates along the way. She was tired, her hands stung, and she just wanted to have a nice, comfy corner where she could curl up and sleep and try not to dream.
Soon enough, they reached a bland-looking door which Penguin opened with a slow creak. Sophie perked up.
She stopped breathing.
Dusty jars filled with dismembered organs, severed limbs, and bones rested on cobwebbed shelves. Her lungs began working again and Sophie inhaled a sickly sweet stench—as sweet as death. Formaldehyde. Her eyes watered. She stumbled back, clutching her nose and trying not to gag.
"Captain wants you to clean this room."
Her eyes bugged. "C-CLEAN?"
"He says you gotta make yourself useful if you want to stay onboard. Sorry about this." Penguin picked up a paper bag lying against the wall. "Here are the towels, gloves, and the mop, the bucket of water is over there, and the bag is for—"
Sophie grabbed the bag and vomited soup.
"Yeah," Penguin said. "That."
—
Trafalgar Law had planned everything, Sophie knew. He'd said all that nonsense about 'nutrients' and whatnot, but it was only so he could bask in the knowledge of her miserable state of misery. It didn't help matters that once Sophie began something, she couldn't stop. Especially if it meant cleaning. She'd already sorted out half of the storeroom's… occupants.
"Why the mangoes am I even doing this?" She threw the mop down. Water and soap splattered over the floor.
Sophie stared at the mess.
Muttering all the fruits she could think of, she set to wiping it over with a towel. Trafalgar Law never gave away anything, and even if he did, it was masked behind a devil-may-care smile Sophie just wasn't able to pick apart, not like any of her molecular formulas. She bit the inside of her cheek.
Sophie couldn't tell if Trafalgar Law was a mad genius, a murderer with a bizarre MO, or just a lazy bum.
Grumbling, she got to her feet and squeezed out the towel over the bucket. The door was kept open to air out the stink of decayed flesh and cleaning detergent.
Sophie wondered how all these people had died; she could only recognize a few organs that had possibly been poisoned, some maybe corroded by acid, the burned eyeballs… and even then… Sophie stared at one intestine as it drifted almost lazily in the formaldehyde, like a shiny blue eel.
She licked her lips. "What a sadistic pineapple."
Law leaned against the door. "Is that right?"
Sophie shrieked hysterically, flailed, and would've smashed into a row of kidneys had not Law's arm snaked around her waist just in time. That only made her panic even more. She was torn between ripping herself away and curling up in a fetal position or staying very, very still and hoping he wouldn't notice her. Except, well.
Law looked over her trembling head, inspecting the rows of sparkling glass containers filled with body parts.
"Nice job cleaning."
She winced, like he struck her a physical blow, but her voice was deceptively honeyed. "H-How may I help you, Trafalgar-kun?"
He frowned and thankfully released her. "Never call me that again. Dinner. Let's go."
"Trafalgar-kun came to show little ol' Sophie the way to the gall—?" He grabbed the front of her hospital gown with a scowl. Sophie instantly held up her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! The ammonia made me a little high. D-didn't you say there were going to be fluffy pillows involved?"
He let go, not very gently. "Maybe you'd feel better with a cigarette."
Sophie untied the hospital gown—she'd worn it over her Criminal clothes, so they wouldn't get wet—and shut the door exactly four times before facing him. "No, thank you. I don't smoke that often."
"Ah." He reached into his pocket. "Then you won't mind if I kept this for a while long—"
"Give me my lighter!"
She clapped her hands over her mouth. Shrinking back, a red-faced Sophie watched Law slowly drag his hand out from his pocket. He clenched empty air. Of course.
He studied her like he was probing a lab rat. "Chain smoker, are you?"
"It's none of your—yes," she changed tactics forcefully, because she had nothing to be ashamed of, "Yes, I am. What do you care?"
"I still want to dissect some lungs from smokers." Law let that sink in and added, "Just a passing thought."
Sophie did a very good job of hiding her shudders. He wouldn't. He just liked threatening her, getting all up in her personal bubble, watching her panic. She felt like a tiny, pathetic bug nailed down under a microscope. The feeling was wretched. If not for her protesting stomach, she would've ran back into the storeroom, slammed the door, and curled into a little ball. Yes, Sophie quite preferred the company of dead men over Trafalgar Law.
Determined to put the matter behind her, she strode ahead despite the fact she had no idea where she was going. "At least I'm not a pirate."
He chuckled. "A familiar comeback."
Fury swelled in her chest. Blindingly fast, Sophie whirled around and spat, "You feign politeness in everything you say, but not even that can disguise what a deranged, nutty-as-a-fruitcake PSYCHOPATH YOU ARE! HOW'S THAT FOR A COMEBACK!?"
'Comback… comeback… back…' echoed down the hall.
"…and I mean that in a very caring way," Sophie finished weakly.
The shadows beneath his hat were angled sharp enough to cut and Sophie was aware of how very deserted this hallway was. Now would be a good time to run, but her feet seemed to be welded to the floor. As he walked forward, she couldn't even blink, much less move.
"I seem to manage quite well," Law said. His smile was terrifying. "Room."
A blue-green dome encased Sophie. She whirled around, terrified, and wondered, not for the first time, if burning alive may have been the smarter option.
"Shambles."
—
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"
"Drink and the devil had done with the rest!" Shachi bellowed.
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!" the pirates cheered, stamping their feet.
The Heart pirates were having a grand time, led by Penguin who was waving Sea King bones like a conductor. As they finished off the song, Shachi raised his mug in salute and chugged it sloppily down his front. Bepo drummed his paws on the table, hollering. Even Law, relaxing in the middle of all the disorder, seemed entertained.
"Hey… can you please…"
His hand bent and tossed the object into the air again.
"Please…"
Toss.
"…please put my head down!"
Law looked mildly surprised, as if he'd forgotten Sophie was still decapitated. "Hm? Sure."
And then he tossed her head at Bepo.
"You are the worst!" she screeched, spinning through the air.
The bear caught her easily. It seemed he had some experience catching heads—but that didn't bother her in the slightest, because his fur was as warm as a soft blanket. "Are you okay?" he asked politely.
"Perfectly fine! Never let me go, I'll stay like this for—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Law had her wrists in a tight grip and clutched a surgical knife right at her throat. He blinked. "Experiment time."
"NO. GIVE ME MY BODY BACK."
Bepo glanced at Law, who just shrugged. The bear picked up Sophie's head and plopped it squarely back on her neck. But she had more important things to concentrate on besides the fact that she nearly died again…
"Food!" she sobbed, and began piling leftovers onto her plate.
The pirates were all quick to offer suggestions on which plate was the tastiest, what part of a pufferfish to eat ("It's not like any of us'll die with Captain here!" Shachi said confidently. Sophie was understandably not reassured), and which had the greatest chance of burning her tongue off. Someone poured her a drink she rapidly glugged down… glugged… and kept on glugging…
Penguin looked mildly impressed. "Damn, you're drinking a lot."
"Don't worry! I can hold my own!" she proclaimed, slumping over on the table. "Don't… underestimate…"
"YOU CAN'T EVEN LAST THROUGH ONE GLASS!"
"Of course I can!" she slurred defensively. "Just… never tried this… what's this… this…"
"WHAT THE HELL'RE YOU EVEN SAYING?"
"It's rum."
Bepo gaped. "Amazing! Captain understood her!"
"A TALKING BEAR IS MORE AMAZING!"
"…I'm sor—"
"WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?"
Sophie snorted rum up her nose and doubled over, coughing. Curse those pirates and their well-timed humor! After the bout of trying not die was over, she clambered back up up, wheezing slightly and red-faced.
"You're taking this rather well." Law smiled at her, the very picture of civility, and she knew he'd just seen her almost kill herself with rum.
"It's not that easy to scare Strangways Sophie. It'll take more than… splicing… off my head…" She took a second to repeat that in her head and then corrected herself, "No, actually, you terrify me."
He smirked a little. "How straightforward."
"Y'know the legend of Cat's Eye?" Penguin waved a drumstick at her. "We've heard the rumors even before we entered the Grand Line. They say the reason the king locked up the island was because he wanted to hoard all the gold for himself. There's a mountain of gold buried underneath his castle, they say." His smile was all teeth. "Imagine."
"We'd be the richest pirates in all of Grand Line!"
"Man, what I'd do with that much gold…"
"Anyway! You have really crazy ability," she said, munching on Sea King meat as the other pirates went into a discussion about the pros and cons about buying mermaid statues. "But really cool at the same time. If I could split molecules as easily as you could split my body apart, that would be incredible."
She took another gulp of rum and savored the lightheaded, giggly sort of feeling that drifted over her. Alcohol was no substitute for nicotine, but she'd take what she could get. "I mean, investigating the wonders of the natural world is the whole reason why I'm a chemist. There are whole oceans waiting to be discovered. What can I find at the end of the world? Elements I can control, the bombs that I can form, the things I can blow up, the smell of sulfur! Ahhahaa…" Sophie snapped herself out of the stupor and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "But I wouldn't expect a murdering doctor like you to understand."
"—they'd be giant and we could stare up at them all day—"
"And how exactly are we going to fit that in here?" Penguin snapped.
"How about renovating our cabin arctic tundra style?" Bepo piped up.
"WE AREN'T A HOME IMPROVEMENT SHOW!"
Law set his mug down. "In the World Government… and even in your Marine base… there are people who will never appreciate your interests. We aren't so different in that way. Every sane person alive will shun those who don't abide by common thought. So you make bombs for a living. You call me a murderer, but what does that make you?"
His unnerving grey eyes watched her smile die away. "Do you really want to see the end of the world?" he asked quietly.
When she found her voice again, Sophie said, "There's a difference between killing out of cruelty and killing out of necessity."
"Is there?" His tone was devoid of all emotion.
She stared. In the background, Shachi was pointing out all the parts of the submarine he wanted to upgrade with his hypothetical new set of tools, and Penguin muttered to Newsboy Hat about buying more maps.
"I experiment on humans," Law continued, "because it furthers my knowledge and hones my skills. But even so, I don't delude myself in thinking that at the end of the day there's something more than a corpse sitting on my operating table. What difference does it make whether you're buried in a gilded coffin or none at all?"
Sophie's reply was harsh. "Difference is one person might've deserved it."
"Bullshit. Deserving death? And who gets to decide how much life is worth? Don't act so superior when you want to justify killing another human." Law leaned closer, cold grey eyes narrowed, voice cutting. "Death is the same wherever you go. It doesn't matter if it's one, or two, or a million people. Don't avert your eyes from it. Don't try to pretend it's necessary. It doesn't matter how they died, or why they died, but they did. And that's all that matters."
Her fingers were leaving red crescent marks on her palm.
"You're treating death like a statistic," Sophie quietly pointed out.
"Because it is," Law replied. "Am I wrong?"
She stared at the table and said, after a long pause, "Are all pirates cynics?"
"Cynical? Depends on how you look at it." He took another drink of his rum and asked quite plainly, "Have you ever had a dream?"
Sophie wasn't sure she heard right. "…I have…"
"So?"
"I want to eradicate all germs in existence and make odd numbers illegal. I think I sent in a petition to the Gorosei last year."
Law leveled her a flat glare.
"I'm serious," she snapped. "Got a condescending insult to throw my way?"
"That's one of the most pathetic things I've ever heard. I should take off your head again for that."
Ah, demeaning and threatening her all in the same breath. And to think that she'd almost been worried he'd gotten past that stage. Sophie plopped her cheek on her palm, thoroughly miffed. "Yeah? And what's yours, Doctor?"
The pirate captain didn't explain himself. He didn't speak to her again for the rest of dinner. He gave no ammunition for her, no anecdotes, no weakness. At the head of the table, he drained his rum, he ate, he observed, his expression giving away none of his thoughts, no matter how hard she strained to glimpse them.
—
Sophie awoke with a gasp.
She crammed a fist under her pillow—gun's not there, okay, where's the rifle—she was on her feet in a half-second, fumbling blindly through the darkness. Panic rose like bile in the back of her throat. She strained to see the dim red remains of a crackling fire, the other sleeping soldiers, the one that should've been keeping watch over the rest—oh god unless they were all—
And then Sophie banged her head on a shelf.
She promptly sat back down.
It took her a moment to remember where she was—the Heart Pirate's submarine, sleeping next to dissected organs. Sophie rubbed her forehead and took a deep, calming breath.
"Okay… very glad no one saw that…"
She fumbled through the darkness and opened the door, bringing in a waft of chilly air. Shivering, Sophie folded the blanket the pirates had kindly given her into a perfect square and slipped on her satchel. As an afterthought, she dusted the jars a bit. There was nothing like a good morning cleaning to pick her up.
"Sophie!"
A mess of black curls poked out door. "Shachi-san! Penguin-san! Good morning!"
Shachi winced. "Ow, ow, ow—n-not so loud, Sophie-chan." It was a wonder that he could still stand up, after that drinking competition last night.
"Mornin'!" Penguin shouted jovially. "What a nice day for sailing, right?"
"Aagh! Whhhyy!?"
She stumbled over to them. "Th-this is absolutely not a nice day at all. It' so c-c-cold! Shouldn't the Sunflower Kingdom be a Spring Island?"
"That's right, but we're stopping at Drum Island to restock on supplies." Penguin tilted his head. "Isn't this a good thing for you? It's not like you wanted to go to Cat's Eye Island."
"Right," she agreed instantly, a bit defensive. "Speaking of which, I should head over to the deck…"
"Wait! Sophie!"
Startled, she turned around. Penguin was grinning. "It's been fun."
"For you, maybe!" she huffed over her shoulder. "I never want to get decapitated again!"
The pirates howled in laughter. As Sophie walked away, her lips lingered in a tiny grin.
The heels of her boots clacked down a familiar passageway. What a truly bizarre set of circumstances. Just last week ago she'd sprinted for her life in the opposite direction… Sophie glanced out the familiar porthole, where once upon a time she'd wriggled through. The submarine steadily approached a snow-covered island, giant white pillars stretching between long, slanting fingers of sunlight. Her breath caught. She'd never seen anything like it. The drum-shaped pillars, the gleaming ice castle, the pirate flag…
What.
Disbelieving, she pressed her nose against the porthole. Just as she thought. The white-on-black Jolly Roger was unmistakable.
"Why? Drum Kingdom is part of the World Government! Why did they raise a pirate flag…?" A dozen hypotheses assaulted Sophie, each worse than the last. "Don't panic. Facts first, theories later."
On her way to the deck, she passed by a group of pirates. Sophie's thoughts were whirling so fast she didn't pay attention until—
"They're blaming the fire at Crawfish on us! Can you believe those bastards—eh?" The burly pirate wearing a fuzzy ushanka hat jumped slightly when he realized Sophie was reading over his shoulder. "Sophie-chan? Mornin'! I'm Anko, remember?"
The pirate in the newsboy cap sighed. "It would be nice if someone remembered me."
Sophie kept reading. Fire spreading across the island. Eighty confirmed dead, hundreds more still missing. All attributed to the Heart Pirates… just like Law had said…
She pointed at the newspaper. "Can I borrow that?"
Anko nodded eagerly. "Sure!"
She voiced her thanks and walked out on the deck, reading as she went. Her breath misted and she could taste the cold in the air.
Guardian of Alabasta, Sir Crocodile captures eight pirate crews this last month. Magician Basil Hawkins rampages across Longben's Skull. Cipher Pol Five apprehends the fearsome Grey Scourge in Oreina. She flipped through the bounties page (Iron Mace Alvida, Devil Dias, Cavendish of the White Horse, Strawhat Luffy...) and stopped. Revolutionaries successfully overthrow the Viran monarchy.
It was over, really, truly over. The soldiers, marine and rebel, could all go home. She felt a strange, empty lightness. Of course it was going to end this way, they had predicted as much, but the finality of it was like taking a wrecking ball to the stomach.
The war was over, and she'd lost.
The sub entered a river, cruising against the current. Sophie lifted her head, her lips parting, newspaper forgotten—pristine, untouched snow blanketed towering pines, as far as the eye could see. A News Coo flew overhead, disappearing against the white-blue pillars looming high above the island.
Sophie was so absorbed she didn't notice a shadow beside her stretching an arm around her shoulder. Law pulled her close enough that his coat tickled her cheek and warmth spread through her bare skin.
The expression on her face could either be described as agonizing confusion or extreme horror. "Wh-wha-wha-wha—"
"Careful," he muttered.
Right on cue, a group of hooded figures appeared behind a snow mound, all carrying muskets pointed directly at the sub. "S-state your name and your purpose, pirate!"
Though Sophie was having an internal panic frenzy, he remained unruffled. "Trafalgar Law. Buying medical supplies. I promise you we mean no harm."
With that short exchange, their whole demeanor changed. They lowered their muskets and chuckled to themselves. "Medical supplies, was it? That's fine. Kinda brings back memories of that guy, huh?" One person shouted at them, "Bighorn is just ahead! Welcome to the Sakura Kingdom!"
Law nodded. "Thanks."
Her bewilderment grew. "Sakura Kingdom…?"
There was a flash of something in her peripheral vision, but before she could see what it was, he moved away, leaning against the rail, and she discontentedly began shivering again. "You saw the pirate flag, right? This island probably wants to proclaim independence from the Government." He frowned. "Not like they should be blamed… the idiot ex-king drove this country into ruin. The best doctors in the world used to come from Drum Island. Now it's only a shell of what it used to be."
Her relief was palpable. "So it's not overrun by pirates?"
"By the way those people welcomed us? Unlikely."
She'd only heard snatches about Walpol before, in G-13. The only thing she knew for certain was that the Vice Admiral hated dealing with him. He'd preferred to let Drum Island be, from what Sophie remembered. But… if G-13 had known this king had harmed his people so badly… and refused to do anything… she shook her head, she didn't even know the whole story, just what Law had told her. Either way, kingdoms were still mostly sovereign from the World Government… G-13 might not have been able to do anything…
As Sophie brooded over this, the submarine dropped anchor beside the outskirts of Bighorn. The Heart pirates piled out onto the deck. "Oooh! We're here! Shit, it's freezing!"
"I don't think it's that bad," said Bepo cheerfully.
"YOU'RE AN ANOMALY!"
"…Sorry…"
"When you arrive in town, get those bandages changed," Law told Sophie, tossing her the lighter.
She caught it in relief, then sidled over to Bepo and clutched the front of his orange jumpsuit. "Farewell, beautiful animal, I'll miss you the most. You were my favorite." She hugged the polar bear.
Bepo was conflicted. On one hand, he had a sniveling girl that smelled like rotted corpses wrapped around his middle. On the other, all of his crewmates were glaring daggers at him. It was a rather novel experience.
"I'll miss you, too," he lied kindly.
"Y-you mean that?"
All this idiocy was too much for Law. "Bepo could take off your head with one swipe of his claws."
Sophie let go blindingly fast. "Oh. Um. I'm just going to… take off now… And I won't miss you at all," she snapped at Law, who had ruined all her fantasies of the polar bear and her frolicking in daisy meadows. I've had enough of head-taking-off-ness to last a lifetime.
She jumped over the rails and landed heavily on the snow. With a wave at the pirates shouting their farewells, Sophie vanished into the pine trees.
"I hate to see her go, but I do love to watch her leave," Shachi sighed with a dopey grin.
"Shachi." Law beckoned.
His jaw dropped as Law dropped a few strands of curly black hair onto his palms. "No way! You remembered? Captain, you're amazing!" He breathed in deeply. "Smells like… formaldehyde—wow,that stuff's strong." Shachi held it away, coughing.
Law slipped the scalpel back in his pocket. "Be back before the Log Pose sets," he ordered the rest of his excited crew, "And don't fuck around; we're only here to stock up on supplies."
"Cap, you're not... planning on hunting her down again, right?" one pirate spoke up.
A cruel glint flashed in his eye, but Law just grinned and shook his head. "The chemist served her purpose. She's no use to me anymore."
Besides, he honored his promises.
—
"The Den Den Mushi has a severe cold," said the café owner apologetically. "We need to get it warmed up first."
Sophie's forehead met the table. She was bundled up in a thick coat the owner had generously lent her; the icicles that had frozen on her eyebrows had melted a while earlier. Her groan was muffled. "Well, I've waited one week already; another hour won't kill me… much."
She spent the last of her beli on a pack of her favorite Ground King cigarettes and black, bitter, piping hot coffee. Mmm… the nectar of the gods…
The doors were thrown open, sending in a flurry of snow. "How are you doing, Dalton?"
Sophie spat coffee all over the table. The café broke out horrified screams and she tensed, instinctively searching for a gun holster that wasn't there.
The owner nervously scratched his cheek. "Ah… well… Dalton-san went to Robelle… so…"
Young, slim hips were clad in tight pants. Thick blonde hair fell over a purple leather jacket. The cigarette dangled from Sophie's mouth. Back in G-13, she'd heard rumors… rumors about the loveliest of women being born on Winter Islands, beauties as frail and delicate as a white jasmine, their skin as soft and smooth as fresh snow…
The lady turned around—
Sophie's brain malfunctioned.
"At this time?" she frowned, deepening the wrinkles that lined her face, and her nose was as pointy as a witch's. "I saw a pirate ship banked on the river."
"Turns out they're just here for medical supplies. The captain's name was, um… Gora… Tafar… well, something long."
"That's not good. Isn't anyone keeping an eye on them?"
"Hey! You've hoisted up a Jolly Roger; that's practically an invitation to all pirates passing by this island! And I mean…" Sophie shrunk back, realizing how ill-planned her burst of outrage was, "well… aren't you, um, a-afraid of getting in trouble with the World G-Government?"
A hush descended upon the café. The belly-shirt-wearing old lady examined her, one eyebrow crooked up. She took a swig from a large bottle of plum sake and sauntered over to Sophie's corner.
"Listen up, little girl. Pirate flags carry many different meanings. Certain flags are flown with pride and can never be stained no matter how many bombs are thrown at it. Where was the World Government when Walpol threw out the doctors who disobeyed him? Where were they when hundreds of his subjects died of disease?" She slammed a palm on the table, nearly overturning Sophie's coffee. "Our flag is a symbol of faith!"
"I'm sorry," Sophie said flatly, not sounding sorry at all, "but that's a bit stupid."
The rest of the customers seemed to choke on air. What, did she say something wrong?
The witch lifted up her sunglasses. She looked terribly amused. "Heeheehee! What a rude little girl. Yeah, I thought so, too, until a couple of loudmouthed brats proved otherwise." With one foot, she dragged out a chair and dropped herself in it. "Is something wrong with your hands? It's okay, you can tell me; I am a doctor."
"Um, I-I don't think I need—"
"Those bandages haven't been changed in about thirty-six hours. It doesn't seem like much, but fresh bandages will help reduce scarring and speed up healing." She took a long drink from her bottle and pointed. "I'll dress them for you, but it'll cost all the beli you have on your person right now."
"That's too bad. I spent the last of my money on this coffee."
"Then two years of indentured servitude."
"…That price is a little steep, wouldn't you say?"
"Kids these days," she groused, resting her sharp chin in her palm. "Miserliness makes you very uncute."
Sophie daintily took a sip of her coffee. "Oh? I wasn't aware I had any cute qualities in the first place." She paused. "Wow, that was totally not what I meant to say."
The entrance bell jingled. The café owner looked up. "Welcome! Are you the pirates that docked outside of town?"
Oh, fudgeapples. It was only logical to assume that the Heart pirates would be staying in Bighorn. Sophie was the one who should've been at a port, searching for a ship that could take her to G-13. She should've, but…
Sophie quietly excused herself and crept out the back door. Everyone in the café, even the witch lady, was focused on the recent arrivals. Their attention was arrested by one pirate in particular, whose bounty had become famous in the papers as of late.
Her smile widened. "Heeheehee…! Now this is a surprise. It seems I'm coming across your face everywhere today, Trafalgar Law."
One customer tugged on the café owner's sleeve and pointed furiously at the morning's newspaper. "We… we let such a scary guy on this island?" he squeaked.
"It's an honor, Kureha-shishou," Law said. His gaze flickered over to the empty seat and the cup of coffee. It was still emitting wisps of steam, and a faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air.
"Shishou? Pretty words from a wicked man. What does the Surgeon of Death want with me? Have you come here to learn the secret of my youth?"
Anko pointed at her. "Captain, who's this old hag? HABUGHFF!"
There was a sound like a head attacked a stone wall and lost.
"Insolent brat! I'm still a very young one hundred and thirty-nine years old!"
—
Sophie sullenly picked apart a leaf beneath a pine tree. She'd wanted to contact Hippo first before setting off to find a ship… which wasn't unreasonable. And if it delayed her for a few hours… there was no helping it, right?
Crawfish and Drum Island were entirely different worlds—worlds Sophie was only just beginning to fathom. Gator Town had smelled of soil, tree bark, and warm, damp earth. Bighorn was fresh and sharp and bitingly cold. It was the first time she'd ever seen snow, real snow. No one could blame her for wanting to stay out on the ocean a little longer… right? She bit her lip, disconsolate at herself for feeling guilty. There was nothing to feel guilty towards.
She crushed the cigarette into her boot and began aggressively padding a snowball together.
A little rearranging here and there, and a tiny Aokiji snowman grinned back at her. Sophie relished that accomplishment for a few minutes, then looked up as a fuzzy, bipedal rabbit strolled by.
As if sensing that possible death was close, the animal stared at her, whiskers trembling. She reached out for a big warm hug, glittering hearts and flowers shining beside her face.
"Bunny," she dreamily called.
The laphan promptly bit Sophie's arm.
"OH MY GOD, GET OFF, GET OFF!"
"Ai-ai-ai!"
With a single punch, Bepo sent the laphan flying in the air. He turned to her. "You've really got to stop thinking every fluffy animal that comes your way is cute."
Sophie was face-down in the snow. Blood pooled around her nose. "Thanks for the advice."
"No problem!" He stood there in silence, perhaps basking in the fact that he hadn't been told off. When it became apparent Sophie wasn't moving, he gave a shrug and walked away.
"Wait!"
She scrabbled at his suit.
"Hm? What do you want?"
"Can't you stay—here? For a bit?" She wiped away her nosebleed. "Unless you're planning to take off my head, I mean… wow," Sophie laughed suddenly, "you guys are a really scary crew. It's not like I hadn't noticed before, but…"
She fell silent. After a pause, Bepo flopped down beside her, cross-legged.
"You're pretty scary, too. You got burned and you almost drowned and I'm pretty sure Captain had at least three schemes to kill you… but you're still alive. That's the scary thing about you." A wide grin stretched across his face. "You fight back."
"I… well, um… that's kind of funny, actually. Before the war, I've never fought for anything. Not really. Not for things that actually matter." Sophie hugged her knees, cheeks pink from the cold. "Three months ago was the first time I've ever stepped outside G-13. That's funny, right?" she asked again, even though she wasn't smiling. "I'm nineteen, and this is the first time I've ever left home."
After a moment of contemplation, the bear replied, "You should do what you wanna do. Take it from a pirate. Life's too short."
Her life was measured by how many blueprints she made in a month. Or how many bombs she shipped out in a week. Short? Her life seemed endless. Sophie was sure that even after she died, her skeleton would still be working for the World Government…
She took a deep breath. "That's… um… actually, I was sort of thinking…"
"BEPO!" A loud holler broke through the air, startling them both. "Oi, Bepo, where are yoouuu? We're leaving!"
The bear brushed off his suit and stood up. "I'll follow my captain's dream until I die." He patted her on the head. "I hope you find your dream as well."
Sophie watched his orange jumpsuit disappear into the snow, feeling a bit like she'd let a grand opportunity slip from her burned fingers. What a novel concept they had. She'd never thought criminals could say stuff about 'dreams' without making a joke out of it. But… the Heart pirates were… a bit different from the average criminal.
Of course, Trafalgar Law was a lunatic. But she wasn't really of sound mind either. So, there was that.
She fell on her back and stared up at the grey sky. A snowflake landed on her nose. Sophie had generated snow dozens of times in her lab. Yet somehow, they were never like this…
How many other miracles were out there? She wanted to see them all. Sophie was a chemist, a purveyor of intellect, a researcher of the natural world. And there were so many things she didn't know. They all stuck out in her memories, vividly sharp: the first time she'd seen an alligator, walked in a swamp, tasted rum, felt real snow beneath her fingertips… meeting Sid, and Nellie, and that horrible Shichibukai… Law and Shachi and Penguin and Bepo…
The war is over, the little voice in her head reasoned, Sensei probably thinks you're dead. What are a few more days of adventuring? It's not like anyone will know…
The iron in her chest throbbed, black and cold. But there was also G-13, her laboratory, her bedroom… it was a perfectly sensible life. And, pineapples, Sophie dearly missed it… the sense of normality, a clear dawn after a storm, something so—unreal after the war it couldn't even seem possible…
"Girl!" the café owner shouted, coming into view. "The Den Den Mushi is ready for your call!"
Sophie slowly stood up and looked out past the pine trees, toward the river. No time for self-pity. No time for hesitation.
She closed her eyes, briefly. "I'll be right there."
—
With a grunt, Penguin hefted two crates onto the submarine deck. "That's the new dialysis machine, the water, and the food supplies," he muttered, ticking off the items on his fingers, "and last… C'mon, we don't have all day! But be careful. But be quick about it!"
"Which is it?" Anko shouted back.
"Oh, just hurry up." Penguin grinned. "Unless you're too tired after getting beat up by an old granny?"
The bottom of a shoe was still imprinted on his forehead, which Manta and Hai Xing kept sniggering at. "Shut up, assholes," he sulkily told them, tugging his hat lower.
Once the pirates finished quickly (but carefully!) loading the remaining cargo, Bepo hollered, "That's all of it, Captain!"
"We set sail for Cat's Eye Island! Raise anch—"
"Stop the sub!"
Law halted mid-step.
A young woman slowed to a halt, ankle-deep in snow, doubled over and gasping for breath. Snowflakes were caught in her curly black hair, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She stabbed a finger in his direction.
"Tr-Tr-Tr-Trafalgar Law! I refuse to get my hands re-bandaged! If you want to exercise your rights as a doctor, go ahead! B-b-but, I'm w-warning you, I'll resist with all my might unless you bring me onboard your s-s-submarine!"
Shachi and Penguin stood on the upper deck. The former gripped the rail excitedly. "Did you hear Sophie-chan asking for another favor?"
"I got the same feeling," Penguin replied, his tone wary. "Orders, Captain?"
Very deliberately, Law faced Strangways Sophie. Desperation, fear, and something like hope flickered in her blueblue eyes. He was aware that his entire crew was avidly watching from the portholes. She hugged her bare arms, shivering, but never breaking eye contact. Determination, that was good. A talented chemist. Yes, he saw the potential. But she was loud, rash, and World Government… had a good mind, though, and that was something he could use…
With a slow smirk, Law called back—
to be continued
trivia
hai xing: chinese for starfish
anko: japanese for anglerfish
pescado manta: pescado means fish in spanish and manta for manta ray