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—
methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #12
causatum theories
—
Up until Vira, there had been few times Sophie experienced genuine fear. She never had a reason to. Her reckless urge to explode everything she could get her hands on, or "accidents" as Hippo wrote on the liability statements, usually just gave her a slap on the wrists and a complaint to Lettidore (later to be mysteriously found in the paper shredder). She abused her status gleefully, without repercussion. But while childish behavior could be forgiven, professional mistakes weren't. Whenever she made an error in her blueprints, Lettidore would drag her into his office and roar—loud red noises that scrambled her eardrums—but we're getting off topic. The point is, Sophie had a sheltered life that fulfilled at least two of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. More than a large portion of the rest of the world.
But like a pendulum, her life was thrown from one extreme to the other. After the past two weeks, after Law, Donquixote Doflamingo—after free-falling one thousand feet—and getting into a bar fight with a Longarm slave trader, very little could scare her anymore. Now, if someone tied her to a wall and started revving a chainsaw, she'd most likely yawn and tell them to put some more effort into it.
That's what Sophie believed until this moment, right now.
Teresa didn't even blink.
The agent stared at Sophie as she instantaneously did the following: 1) registered the gun, 2) heard the gunshot, 3) followed the trajectory of the bullet shot at point-blank range, and 4) tilted her head three inches to the right.
The bullet shot into a bottle of gin as a waiter was pouring it, and all hell broke loose.
Sophie floored it. Flinging a smoke bomb at the ground, she leaped on the table and crashed through the window, glass shards spilling behind her. The alley below was a ten foot drop and her momentum was so great she blindly slammed into the ramshackle wall.
She braced herself and took several gulps of air. The agent's frigid jet eyes burned themselves into her brain like a scorch brand. Sophie would frequently revisit those eyes in her nightmares, though she didn't know it yet.
Her mind was on autopilot; the bar was a compromised trench, and her only goal was get to shelter. She stumbled forward, her mind spinning as bystanders scrambled to clear the alleyway. And the yelling—the yelling started, and it wasn't just in her mind, she wasn't flashing back to Vira—
Sophie looked up and paled.
Six agents in black were walking towards her, an immovable line spanning the entire tiny alleyway. Sunglasses obscured their eyes and skull bandanas wrapped over their mouths.
From the roof of the bar, a street urchin stomped her feet and howled, "Get off the streets! It's another pirate brawl!"
Her blood ran cold. Pirates…?
The skulls on the agents' bandannas weren't just skulls… but Jolly Rogers.
Those cheaters!
An agent fired a shot into the air. That was enough incentive for the kids to scatter. He turned the pistol toward Sophie, who automatically raised the revolver in response. "End of the line, Director. Put the gun down."
Should she run? Surrender? Start shooting like a mindless idiot and pray for the best? But there were six agents, and she only had five bullets left. Even if her marksmanship was on point, it would be a waste of ammo. What to do? What to do? Her best chance was surrendering, pretending to cooperate, and then wait for a chance to escape. A chance that might not come. The agents were yelling at her now, to put the gun down, put it down NOW. But she couldn't. She couldn't go back to G-13, not after killing a World Noble. Her finger slowly pressed on the trigger. She couldn't surrender after coming this far. If they wanted a bloodbath, fine—
Before she could make a move, a white and orange streak slid in front of Sophie.
Penguin and Bepo stood between her and the CP5 agents.
"Getting real tired of other pirates picking on you," Penguin commented, cracking his knuckles. "If Shachi were here, he'd ask why you didn't invite us to the party."
"Let's break their legs a little," Bepo proposed.
It felt as if someone swept her legs out from under her: Sophie completely forgot about the Heart Pirates. The surprise and relief were so sudden she could only manage fishlike blinking. It was a formidable sight: the two Heart Jolly Rogers smiling at her from the backs of their uniforms.
Penguin raised his fists, and Sophie snapped herself out of it. "Wait! We gotta m-make a run for it! They're n-not—"
"Director! You have until the count of three!"
"They're not p-pirates!" Sophie grabbed Penguin's shoulder and Bepo's elbow. "They're Cipher P-P-Pol!"
Penguin went still. Instead of demanding why Cipher Pol called her Director, his face turned an angry fuchsia. He pointed at the agents. "Take those Jolly Rogers off, cheaters!"
"One!"
She desperately tugged on their sleeves. Mangoes, it was like tugging on two boulders. "W-where's Law-san?" Our trump card, fearless captain, fearsome Surgeon of Death?
"Bathroom," Penguin snapped.
"When you gotta tinkle, you gotta tinkle," Bepo added.
Sophie made a noise like an enraged porpoise, searching for a more intelligible response than WHY?
"Two!"
Penguin brushed her hand off his shoulder. "Sit back and relax. We can handle these Cipher jokes." He appraised his opponents with a head tilt that reminded Sophie of the cocky air his captain sometimes (always) had. "Wait a second," he said suddenly. "Why are they after you again? And did they just call you 'Director'?"
"Three!"
The CP5 agents opened fire.
Penguin and Bepo easily dodged the first two bullets with practiced speed and efficiency. On the other hand, Sophie did an arm flail maneuver and a bewildered jig of indecisiveness. Her knees hit the rope railing of the bridge, and—lurch—she felt her balance rapidly drop while her gut did the same.
"Help me!" she shrieked, her arms windmilling.
"Catch her!" Penguin and Bepo shouted in their fighting stances, and blinked at each other. "Huh?"
Receiving no help whatsoever, the chemist tipped over backwards and plummeted over the bridge, cursing loudly.
"After her!" an agent roared.
"Like hell," Penguin retorted, and leaped forward—
The agent released a trademark G-13 smoke bomb with a distinct pineapple scent—a certain way chemists sign their work—and it exploded in the alley.
Penguin and Bepo scrambled up on a rooftop, coughing and waving away the smoke. When the haze cleared, the alley was empty. The two pirates looked at each other… and Penguin waved a hand at the polar bear. "You call him, I'm going to grab some fried dumplings."
Bepo dialed a number on his Baby Den Den Mushi. "Captain, we have a problem… oh, are you flushing? I'll wait."
—
A few moments earlier, Sophie was busy calculating the prime position to fall as she hurtled downwards. She squeezed her eyes and braced herself for the pain. "Hardcore parkour," she squeaked, and crashed through a roof. Luckily, due to the fact Kunlun was populated almost entirely by impoverished slums, the 'roof' was a big plastic lid poorly taped to a cookie tray.
"Seven times seven is forty-nine," the little girls were repeating, before Sophie broke the roof in half and nearly sent them sprawling like bowling pins. She rolled forward on her shoulder, shot to her feet out-of-balanced, ran face-first through the wall, and tripped into the bridge-street outside.
The school shack promptly collapsed in a neat little circle around the girls and their befuddled teacher.
"Ow—off—s-sorry!" she panted, wincing. "Keep studying!"
Gonna be feeling that one for days…
Sophie hobbled down the bridge. Trouble happened every ten seconds on Kunlun, so the onlookers only dropped a leer and a few laughs at Sophie's expense, without batting an eye at the damage she just caused. She threw her hood over her head and hurried past street peddlers, walking fast but not too fast. As much as she wanted to bolt, blending in was better than making a big scene. The agents were hot on her tail, she could feel it.
A sudden sliver of anxiety and disbelief pierced through her mental state. God, what have I done? Sophie knew she'd be on the run from Teresa, but to have actually pointed a gun at her? What's wrong with me? What the actual pineapples is wrong with me?
Sophie didn't even remember raising her arm, only that white-hot anger throbbed in her skull and the revolver Law gave her found its way into her palm. She gritted her teeth as she easily jumped a chain-link fence. She could try to justify it all she wanted, but it was really when Teresa threatened the crew that Sophie immediately decided she had to end her. Right there. It seemed like an obvious choice… but wow, major regret. She was the weakest one here! If Teresa was the heavyweight champ, Sophie's level was literally five hundred miles away from the boxing ring.
Speaking of fighting—Penguin and Bepo would be alright, they could easily fend off the grunts. In the meantime, she'd find a place to hide, wait, and run to the harbor. She told Law she wasn't going to drag her problems onboard his submarine. The crew was still recovering after Odin and Cat's Eye; she was not going to let Teresa get her beefy, tattooed hands on them.
She jumped over a moon gate, scurried past a line of cramped zen gardens, slid down a sloping twisted roof constructed entirely out of a giant peach tree. Stumbling over the crags and burls, Sophie scanned her possible hiding spots. The roots of the tree tangled up into a long bridge, populated with people all cheerfully going about their daily lives, oblivious to Sophie's dilemma. Where to hide? Wait a minute… She looked down at the tree. Ah. I'm standing right on top of it.
"Hardc…core… parkour…" she wheezed, dropping down with a thud and rolling into a somersault.
Someone had built a monastery inside the peach tree. It was mostly empty inside, save for a monk lighting incense. She kept to the shadows and slunk out into an unoccupied hallway. Enormous twisting gnarled roots formed the walls. There was kind of an earthy, stagnant smell that reminded Sophie of the grotto entrance at Cat's Eye. Maybe it was the time of day, or maybe because faith didn't find faithful clientele in pirates, but the place was pretty quiet. Faint disembodied laughter echoed from somewhere down the hall. Altars lined one side of the wall, decorated with dusty fruit bowls, hardened sweet cakes, and incense ashes. Her nose wrinkled. Whoever ran this place couldn't be bothered keeping up with the maintenance. Sophie swiped a pack of King Ground cigarettes someone left for the deceased.
"Thanks," she told the cigarette, before lighting it. It wasn't much, but she used to say the same to the corpses she looted at Vira.
She coughed after inhaling and made a face at the stale cigarette. Ah, well.
"At least I'm safe here…"
Someone grabbed her jacket.
With a sharp jerk, Sophie was snatched into the shadows.
An arm snaked across her chest, pressed her close, covering her mouth. She was about to scream, but one whiff of antiseptic and steel, and all her fright vanished. A lean brown hand pulled the cigarette from her mouth and flicked it away. Law's lips were at her ear, whispering: "Don't make a sound," which she barely heard over the furious jackhammer of her own heart that had nothing at all to do with her pursuers.
—
The CP5 agents waited outside the wrecked bar. Teresa strode outside, straightening her suit and brushing dust off her hands.
"Chief, we lost her." The agent did a double take. "This again? You don't need to keep paying for the damages!"
"You know I hate—"
"Being in debt to other people, we get it," the agents groaned. "This is why we hate making a scene in a crowded area—this always happens!"
One agent with a sniper rifle reprimanded, "The Director escaped right from under your nose."
"This is a waste of my time," Teresa complained. "If I'm going to be Chief of the Intelligence Branch before my mid-forties, I should be hunting real criminals."
"Tell that to HQ," the sniper suggested, with an air like she'd heard this complaint before a million times.
"HQ can go fuck itself," Teresa spat. "In fact, the Gorosei can go fuck itself. I'm sick of a bunch of old dried fruit telling me what to do while I'm trying to protect the goddamn world. Lettidore had me chasing this kid for two weeks. Do I look like a fucking babysitter to you? Did he think I have enough time on my hands to chase some juvenile brat over half of the Grand Line? Christ on a corndog." She shook out a black Jolly Roger bandana and tied it over her mouth. "Let's finish this job and get some goddamn sleep, how about that?"
—
When Sophie finished describing the amount of boiling hot water she landed his crew in, Law immediately began prioritizing. Abandoning the chemist to her doom was pointless (disregarding the brief yet biting urge to do so); Cipher Pol already discovered his personal involvement with her. Surrendering was laughable. Punting their asses to the Red Line seemed like an appropriate option. He pressed his palm against the throbbing wound on his side. But given his current state…
"We're in the deep now, Sophie-ya," Law said seriously.
"Going forward means no looking back. I know." Her hands were shaking as she lit another cigarette. Law had to force himself not to smack it out of her fist. "I-I had to, she f-found out—she—she knows I'm w-with you guys now."
Getting ahead of herself, wasn't she? "You're not a crewmate until you wear the uniform."
"Teresa-san—I m-mean Teresa—why d-do I keep doing that?—she was gonna go after your crew."
"If you hadn't been so trigger happy, we wouldn't be in this situation."
She exhaled smoke through her nose in one sharp breath, reminding him a dragon with ridiculously poofy hair. "You're right, I should've used my time machine and paused. Oh, I forgot—we're not all like you, Sir Amazing Telekinesis Powers. Us lesser beings don't have the luxury to lay out a whole treatise on hypotheticals before shooting!"
"Yet I'm the one who has to clean up your mess," Law rightfully pointed out, lip curled.
She stared at him.
Without speaking, Sophie turned and walked out of the alcove.
Law closed his eyes briefly. He should leave her. He should leave this whole fucking mess behind.
"Sophie," he said, just that word, without anything attached.
She whirled around, the ties of her jacket slapping her in the face. There was no angry snarl he was used to seeing. The look on her face was so vulnerable, so 'I was an idiot for thinking this was a Marine ship', he wasn't entirely sure if she knew she was showing him such an expression. "I said I wasn't going to involve you," she said lowly. "And you know what? I didn't ask for your help."
His hand flexed. Places of worship weren't good. This temple was making him edgy and snappish.
He shifted the subject. "Why is CP5 after you?"
"…Vice Admiral's orders."
His hand tensed into a fist. "And why would a Vice Admiral order a Cipher Pol agency to pursue you?"
"I'm the Director of G-13's chemical warfare division and the Vice Admiral's protégé," she said, bitter and at the same time unapologetically prideful. "I made them an annual sum of half a billion beli. You could've gotten a lot of money if you ransomed me."
Of course she was. It was one of those unspoken things you knew all along. He heard it in the smugness clicking between her teeth like the metal of award plaques. He could read in the way she walked and talked. She was trained in academics, marksmanship, and combat… to varying levels… but trained nonetheless. She was raised to be an elite. This girl, who now had no home, who betrayed her family, who lost her faith, she had everything the world could offer.
Funny. Law once knew a thirteen-year-old boy who was just the same.
As if hearing his thoughts, a shock of electric blue met his gaze. Sophie was glaring at him.
"I was good at it," she muttered fiercely. "I was the youngest Director, which meant that I made the stupidest decisions, but I was good where it mattered."
He didn't doubt her. "Now they want you back," he said instead. "It's personal."
"Right. But I think Lettidore-san wants answers about Cat's Eye…" Sophie tensely rolled the cigarette between her fingers. "…And Kasimir, and Lisbeth-san."
He expected as much. Sophie had ridiculous luck at pissing off World Nobles, he thought derisively. He fished out a baby Den Den Mushi from his pocket and dialed. "Penguin, Bepo, get to the monastery on the third ring," he commanded when his navigator picked up. "Bring anyone close by. Have Manta ready the sub."
"Aye!" the grainy voice responded. "Is Sophie safe?"
She was by his arm in an instant. "I'm here, Bepo-san."
He glanced at her. Where did the newfound respect come from?
"We're on our way! Sophie, stay by Cap's side!" Penguin called from the background.
His crewmates were getting unusually attached to the chemist. And it wasn't their typical vapid, meaningless affection they had for women; it sounded… much more personal. But addressing that could come later.
"We can make it to the harbor if we stick to the darkest parts of Kunlun," he began.
"We shouldn't risk that, especially with you still injured," Sophie rebuffed. "Just Room us down the submarine."
Law was generally the strategist of the crew, so he didn't quite expect his final word to… well, not be treated as such. His eyes narrowed and his mouth pinched up.
"…I can't."
"Yes, you can," she said as if he was dense. "The other day you transported us freakin' miles. Just be all—Room!" She wiggled her fingers. "Shambles! Ope Ope blah blah!"
Law gave her a pointed look that said everything.
And Sophie understood. "…You're kidding."
"My body still hasn't recovered from the other day," he muttered. "But it's fine. I'll take them down with Kikoku."
His assurances fell upon deaf ears. Sophie was tapping a whole cadenza on her revolver. "We sh-should split up. Probability-wise, we have a h-higher chance of o-one of us making it down to the harbor. They're a-after me. If they find m-me, they won't go after you. It's one thing to risk my own neck, but g-getting you guys caught up in this m-mess is—"
"Fuck that and come on."
She was practically pulling out tufts of hair. "What if you have to fight? What if you lose?"
"Then I lose. The weak don't get to pick their way of death."
He said it so flatly, so without emotion, without care. Her nose scrunched up in an effort to dig up more arguments. "But your wound…"
"This is nothing compared to the things I've gone through. Cut the shit and follow."
"You don't understand. The last time CP5 arrested anyone of infamy, it was the shipwright of the Oro Jackson. A fishman from Water 7. But then a few years ago, Teresa came along. She never collected a bounty in her life—"
The tree creaked. Just the wind.
"Like hell I'm running from some third-rate spy," Law snapped.
With a great splintering sound, the wall—or rather, the tree roots that made up the wall—peeled off like a paper shredder. Law shielded his eyes from the onslaught of leaves and falling branches. A seven-foot-tall figure stood backlit by the outside light. Teresa pulled out an ax, sleek as hell all the way down to her clean-pressed, boot-cut slacks. She glanced at the tree splinters sticking around the gaping hole and said dangerously, "I'll pay for that."
"—because she k-kills all the c-criminals she comes across!" Sophie squeaked.
Law followed Teresa's eyes. In a split second, he saw what was going to happen and moved.
Springing off his feet, he tackled Sophie around her midsection, barely avoiding the ax that came swinging through the air, and they crashed into the row of altars. Lightning pain shot through the wound on his side. Arms shaking, he raised himself up amid the debris, having shielded her from most of the impact. Beneath him, Sophie curled on her side and coughed, spitting incense from her tongue. Barely a week ago he would've left her for dead. Maybe shoved her on the sword tip if he felt particularly kind. What was his life coming to?
"Go!" Sophie pushed him off and Law moved on his knees. "Split up!"
Teresa rushed forward and was about a foot away from Sophie before Law yanked her back by her ankle. He caught her as she fell and shoved the gleaming sharp edge of Kikoku against her chin.
"One step and I'll cut her head off," he snarled.
The agent stopped.
Then she opened her mouth.
"Do it. Less paperwork for me."
"Seriously?" Sophie cried. "Both of you?"
Before she could react, Kikoku sliced a thin line down her throat. The shock clearly hurt more than the pain—she inhaled sharply and jerked away, but Law tightened his hold on her, crushing her to his chest with his other arm. He forced her neck to extend, exposing her throat to the fullest. "Don't fucking test me."
Instead of getting into the act, Sophie pinned an outraged glare on him. "Poison in the foot wasn't enough!?"
"I got this," Law hissed pointedly. It was rather impressive that he controlled the six foot blade to make such a tiny cut, didn't she think?
"You don't got this," Sophie hissed back with the fury of a thousand lit petrol cans, "people who got this don't say they got it, they just got it—"
Teresa muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'fuck me with a meat cleaver' and interrupted, "Director, you're going to surrender, return to G-13, and explain to Lettidore why Cat's Eye Island disappeared."
"Yeah, okay, let me schedule an appointment for seven years from next Friday."
Law snorted. He caught himself with nary a blink and continued glaring at Teresa, though with a decidedly smug twitch in his cheek.
"But if you can't fit that on your agenda, I understand," Sophie continued. "And for the record, I'm not being sarcastic at all. Let's get some mimosas and I'll walk you down to your ship and you sail away in safety. I attempt to kill you, you attempt to kill me, we're even. I accept your peace offer."
Even in the pit of hopelessness, she always made time for bullshit. That took talent.
Sighing, Teresa raised her ax in the air. She waited one second.
Law was still being impressed by Sophie's ineffectiveness, so it took him a second and a half to realize—
From the opposite bridge, the CP5 sniper pulled the trigger. Law felt his gaze pull away from Sophie to the bullet speeding towards him, too late—his body immediately braced itself, taking a bullet was nothing new, it happened a dozen times as a kid—and then an anchor slammed into his bones and his muscles stopped functioning. Kikoku slipped out of his hands. Law's knees buckled and he was pushing her forward, away from him. He collapsed under the ocean, clutching the cherry red gash on his thigh, unaware if the scream resounding in his ears was from Sophie or him.
"About time you got here," he heard Teresa's voice bubble up from somewhere on the surface. "Let's get this over with. I think I'm getting a migraine."
He was being dragged underwater. Air bubbles escaped his nose. Someone howled in laughter… a ghost with a furious, hungry smile. "That seastone bullet feel nice?" a high-pitched voice chuckled from Doflamingo's mouth. The fuck? "Three guesses to who made it."
The sniper agent kicked him in the ribs, right in the wound Odin gave him.
"Stop it! He's not part of this!"
"You're in her arms right now," the agent laughed.
Another face, a different face, appeared above him rippling like moonlight on the surface of the ocean. Shaggy blonde hair tucked under a hood and a cigarette—damn, don't light yourself on fire again—but then he threw the hood off his head and—oh. The chemist touched the side of his face, her bandaged fingers coarse against his stubble. What was she still doing here? Why hadn't she already ran off? His thoughts were all sluggish. "I'm trigger-happy, I burn bridges way too fast, and I used to be a chemist working for the World Government," she murmured. "Do you trust me anyway?"
"Almost," Law rasped, and he very nearly believed it himself.
She raised her head to the approaching agents. "I hate you!" she wailed suddenly, and began throwing whatever she could find at Teresa. "You're Lettidore-san's lackey! All you're good for is following his orders; can you even think for yourself anymore!?" A half-burned incense stick, a fistful of leaves, a small vial that scattered white powder over their shoes. "You're just part of—of a-an assembly line of w-worshippers!"
"Stop this. You're embarrassing yourself," Teresa snapped. Law agreed, though he was too busy focusing on Not Dying to voice that opinion.
"Wait! Okay, you're right! Don't come any farther, I surrender," Sophie whimpered pathetically, throwing herself on the floor. Her sudden mood change actually did make Teresa stop. "I'll come quietly, just don't hurt me, please don't hurt me, please, I surrender, please…"
Teresa blinked, then asked one of her agents, "How long did that take?"
"About twenty minutes," he responded.
"Nineteen more minutes than I expected," she sighed, yanking her ax from the ground. "I'm losing my edge, I think. Director, put your hands where I can see them."
Her shoulders shaking, Sophie raised her hands.
Her expression morphed from despair to demonic delight.
Teresa took one look at her smile, then at the chalky residue on her feet, and hissed, "Don't you fucking dare—"
Sophie spat her cigarette at the powder and it burst alight like flaming stars.
Enormous coiling tendrils burst from the ground like some gross hellish octopus with flaming tentacles. Under normal conditions mercuric thiocynate would've encompassed little more than a bowl, but thanks to Sophie's radioactive thumb, the tendrils smashed into the agents like a vengeful airbag and exploded out of the Teresa-made hole in the wall. On the side of the monastery there was now a spiny tumor hemorrhaging poisonous fumes. "Motherfucker!" came a distant, unprofessional scream from somewhere in the mass.
Law didn't even notice that Sophie scooped him up bridal-style, picked up Kikoku, and bolted.
…Wait a fucking second.
"Put me down!"
"If I can b-bench press two hundred pounds, I can bench p-press you! Also, I ate a lot for lunch, my muscles are jacked." He could've sworn he saw a little ding appear next to her smile.
He yanked on the ties of her jacket. "I'm not fucking around—"
"I can handle this, I've had a lot of practice!"
What? What did that mean? She dashed past the great hall and out onto a bridge. Law shook that out of his head. Seeing as how she was far shorter than him, he felt like an unbalanced whale being held by a baby bear. This was humiliating.
"I don't believe this; you can bench press two hundred and you can't fight?" he demanded.
"I only fight when I have over n-ninety percent chance of winning!"
"That's a terrible philosophy!"
"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME RESCUE YOU?"
For fuck's sake, he was an infamous pirate bleeding all over his pants and yelling maniacally at the woman who was carrying him. What the fuck. He snapped his fingers. "Make a left! We need cover!"
"But the way to the harbor is on the right!"
"Go left!"
"Argh—fine!" Sophie jumped down a long, narrow staircase deep into the darkness of Kunlun. She stumbled into a shadowed side street, where humming plastic-bright shops and red lanterns were the only light sources. She searched for any traces of Cipher Pol, sighed, and rested against a crooked signpost. Nowhereland, one arrow read. Murder Mountain, said another. Eat your veggies, the last reminded.
"You are such a m-mango," Sophie scolded, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna set you down over there, I need a break…"
Law said nothing; he was just trying not to faint.
Sophie was about to plop him down when he felt a change in the wind. Something snarling and livid was streaking after them at breakneck speed… it was closing in, five hundred feet… four hundred… He grabbed Sophie's shoulder. "Go! She's right behind us!"
She didn't need to be told twice. Sophie tightened her grip on him and barreled down the dark alley, prepared to mow down whoever got in her way. He felt his shoes and the back of his head scrape against the walls. The alley was barely wide enough as she stormed down flights of stairs and flew past grimy-looking Kunluners huddled over mahjong and noodle bowls. Law had always known she was physically fit, but this was just…
She swerved around a corner—and brightness flooded over them.
Sophie scrambled back with a yelp. The alley ended abruptly in open, sunlit air. He heard an audible inhale as she stared down the long drop into a lower ring.
"We can lose her if you jump," Law told her.
She looked at him nervously. They were nose-to-nose. "Uhhhh… s-still not over the f-first time when we nearly fell to our d-deaths."
A drop of blood trailed down her neck, where Kikoku had kissed her.
His hand pressed over the wet, bleeding hole on his thigh. He could feel the bullet; it was lodged close to the surface of his skin. It'd be a pain in the ass to do, but… "You trust me?"
Sophie swallowed. "Conditionally."
That wasn't good enough. "We're both going to die in ten seconds if you don't—" He tugged on the strings of her jacket and leaned his weight to the side, gravity tilting them both closer to the edge, and the tips of her combat boots dug into the dirt, "—jump!"
"God, this is taking years off my life!" Sophie whimpered, and stopped resisting gravity.
They tumbled through the air, their positions ending up reversed as she clung to his neck, practically throttling him. He jammed his fingers into the bloody gash—
But his wrist jerked up before he could.
Sophie eep'd as they jolted to a sudden stop. They were about fifty feet from solid ground, dangling by the end of Kikoku. Law's fist tightened painfully on his end of the sword.
"Oi!" the familiar voice of his mechanic greeted. "Better late than never?" From the rooftop they just fell past, Bepo and Penguin clutched Kikoku's handle.
"Oh, thank pineapples," she sighed, resting her sweaty forehead in the crook of his neck.
His arm hooked around her waist. She felt like how he thought she'd feel—muscular, thick, warm jacket, soft jeans. Her ribcage expanded and contracted under his palm.
"Sophie-ya," he said quietly into her hair, "you're heavy and I'm about to pass out."
She raised her head. "Wow, rude."
"Captain!" Bepo called down. "We're gonna pull you u—OMMPH!"
From behind the pirates, the CP5 sniper slammed her rifle into Bepo's head. The polar bear tripped over Penguin and Kikoku slipped out of their hands. "Captain!" they screamed, which was drowned out by Sophie's blood-curling shriek: "NOOOO I DON'T WANT TO DIEEEE!"
"My sword!" Law shouted over the wind.
She understood his idea in an instant. He held out Kikoku and she unsheathed the blade with one powerful swing. While clearly having no training whatsoever in swordsmanship, she had the strength to drive Kikoku into the building they were currently falling past. The ramshackle structure had nothing on a cursed sword. Cheap metal shredded under the blade. Sparks flew as the sword heated up, screeching, cleaving the building in two. Her wail of desperation reverberated in his chest… his eyes drifted shut… his arms slithered off her shoulders and he felt himself falling…
"Law-san!" At the last second, one hand left Kikoku and seized his.
Pain laced through his wrist—fuck, that one might've sprained it. They finally slowed to a stop; suspended in midair, Sophie hung onto Kikoku with one fist and clutched him in her other. Her inordinately large biceps were the only things keeping Law tethered to the earthly world.
"Two hundred pounds, remember?" she sang.
Law exhaled and squinted up at her. "Swing me up!"
After a few tries, Sophie tossed him to the rooftop a few feet away. He tumbled as gracefully as he could, which meant A) not at all and B) he was basically a mess of swears and mortification. When he had landed in relatively one piece, she grabbed Kikoku's handle like a gymnast bar and began rocking, preparing to jump to the roof.
Far above them, Teresa stood on the ledge of the alley and appraised the scene. She stuck her hands in her pockets and did a neat pencil drop straight off the ledge.
Sophie never saw it coming.
He reached out, his hand forming the characteristic motion, demanding the blue sphere to appear. But he was left watching helplessly as the bottom of Teresa's shoes slammed into Sophie's face and the force snapped her head back, right in front of him. Her body twisted in the air, blood, and Teresa's eyes met his in a split-second—and the two women plummeted downwards. He lurched to the rooftop edge, but the movement was so painful he blacked out for a few seconds. When he came to, all Law could do was stare up at the endless blue sky, unable to move a single muscle. They were his fucking crew, and he couldn't take care of them. Sophie must've saved his ass half a dozen times in the past five minutes.
Kikoku was sullenly stuck on the side of some wall and he couldn't do anything about it. A bird landed on his hat, and Law couldn't do anything about that either. Even though he was the Surgeon of Death. Even though he was Sir Amazing Telekinesis Powers.
The feeling in his chest was far more agonizing than any physical wound could've caused him.
—
"Our captain's probably killing your captain right about now. No hard feelings." The sniper smirked as she aimed her rifle at Penguin and Bepo. The black-suited agents blockaded the two pirates.
A fight like this would be fun, but they really didn't have time to waste. Penguin scratched his chin. "I have an idea. Bepo—"
Already done, Bepo held up a Den Den Mushi. It was wired to a set of speakers on the bar.
"You're the best," Penguin thanked him. "Shachi should be the one doing this… he's got more flair than I do… but might as well…" He strode to the edge of the roof. "Ahem, testing, one, two…" His voice was amplified to the whole street. Pedestrians slowed down to watch. The agents glanced at each other, one nervously tightening her bandana, but it was fine. Kunlun was pirate territory. No one would ever believe World Government agents would voluntarily walk on this island.
"Hey!" Penguin suddenly roared. "Hey, fuck you! Fuck you and your ugly-ass mothers and especially fuck your depraved, horse-wanking fathers!" The pirates walking along the bridge below whipped their heads up. Heavily-tattooed, vicious pirates. Pirates that could smash Penguin's head in like a water balloon.
"Holy shit." Aghast, the sniper lowered her rifle to watch the performance. "Holy fucking shit, this idiot." She glanced at her team. "This fucking idiot, am I right?"
"That's right, I said it! You! Is that a face or a raccoon's butt hole? Do mirrors break every time you look at them?" A crowd began congregating beneath the roof, shouting obscenities and growling. Penguin pointed. "God, I bet you pay prostitutes to sleep with you, you disgusting bucket of camel diarrhea!"
Bepo nodded sagely. "I best he does."
An orca fishwoman stomped up to them. "You wanna go!?" Penguin screamed at her. "You wanna fight, you ugly sack of genital warts!?"
"I'll pull your liver out of your fucking throat!" she growled.
Brightening, Penguin jerked his thumb at the agents behind him and chirped, "My bosses will be glad to take you on. They're in the black suits. I repeat, black suits, bandanas, and sunglasses."
Immediately the sniper fired her rifle in the air. "Clear out! He's lying! This is a fight between two pirate crews!"
Her voice was drowned out by the roar of the mob as they surged forward. The agents began backing away. Six-on-two just turned into six-on-twenty.
She turned a horrified glare on the Heart Pirates. "You lying little—"
Penguin slammed the dial down. "You wanna play pretend? This is how real pirates do it, fuckers."
"No hard feelings." Bepo waved and they dropped from the rooftop, disappearing among the crowd hungry for blood.
—
"Ooof! Ow—ARGH—blargh, bleh—!"
Cringing, Sophie spat out leaves as she hung on the arms of disheveled bamboo trees. She'd been saved at the last second by a grove of springy flora. The bottom of Teresa's shoes left a red imprint on her face—particularly her bloody nose. And she got my clothes dirty! Sophie had to take several deep breaths to calm the disproportionate rage. After some desperate wiggling, she detached herself from the tree branches and landed on solid ground… solid, earthy ground? Wafts of steam rose over the lush hanging peach trees. The sound of a roaring waterfall echoed from over the high walls of bamboo. Hot springs?
But the momentary delight was quickly overshadowed by a sense of dread.
Behind her, trees cracked and splintered in half. Teresa brushed dust off her suit, still looking impeccable how did she do that—
Sophie stared at her, twigs sticking out of her hair and blood dripping all over her face. Sighing, Teresa unhooked a pair of handcuffs from her belt. "I have been lenient," she exhaled. "I have warned you about the consequences. I am still willing to take you in without resorting to violence. You can die here or get a slap on the wrists from Lettidore and return to your old life."
She wouldn't go back. It's not that she couldn't—she could lie very well, and as far as she was concerned Saint Kasimir killed himself by tripping down the stairs—but Sophie didn't want it anymore. Who would return to the cave after experiencing sunlight for the first time?
"You are such a fucking disappointment," Teresa said quietly. "I can't imagine what Hippo must feel."
Ouch. "Yeah, well—you—" She raised the revolver, groping for a reply, waiting to see if Law was going to swoop in to save her once again, "y-you got my clothes dirty!"
Teresa's show of emotion: zero.
Beanpoles with stupid hats swooping in for the rescue: also zero.
Sophie was saved from further self-inflicted humiliation when a side door banged open and a bunch of laughing pirates walked out. She took one look at this new development, dropped everything, and bolted into the bathhouse like the chicken she undeniably was. Teresa's roar was cut off by the door slamming shut behind Sophie. She hurriedly snapped all the locks in place and rushed into the long, dimly-lit hallway, through a maze of paper doors and tatami mats. She had no idea where she was going, only that death was chasing her and no way was she slowing down.
"Stop running! You don't have anywhere else to go!" came a distant shout behind her. "No one will take you in after Vira!"
The hallway came to an end with a fancy paper door. She wrenched it open with both hands. Sophie stumbled past a sign saying that the bathing areas were closed for cleaning. Multiple tiny waterfalls and a waterwheel chugged away, surrounding the opulent bathing pools.
Stairs led up to the second level. The washing areas were above her… and so was the door. Pineapples. She wasn't going to make it. And she was out of smoke bombs.
Sophie squeezed one eye shut and fired three bullets at the humming pipes.
The caps blasted into the air. Steam whistled out and swallowed the bathing room in white fog.
Instantly an unnatural quiet drifted over the haze. The noise from the waterwheel became muted. White air currents curled over Sophie as she crouched behind the stairs. She could barely see in front of her own nose. Obscured shadows wavered on the edge of her vision. A flash of metal caught her eye. Ah, this bathhouse had its own communication devices…
"You had everything. Clean labs, good food, money." Teresa's incorporeal voice bounced over the grandiose walls, coming from everywhere. " People would've killed to be in your position. People who've only known wars and suffering their whole lives, do you know how privileged you are compared to them?" She sighed. "You were always a weird kid, but you did your job well. You know what your file says? 'I like the challenge. I like figuring out puzzles. It's like a game where everyone speaks a language I know.' You're different from normal civilians. Freaks like you need to be reined in."
There was no response. Her eyes flickered from the shadows of the lush bathing pools to the waterfalls splashing indistinctly.
"Hundreds of marines died at Vira. Is that why you want to leave? I understand where you're coming from. I really do. But think about it—are you prepared to risk your life every single day? To take on the might of the World Government? I'm not saying you're a criminal, or even a bad person. I'm saying you're young and negligent, and you can't run forever from your problems. G-13 will protect you, and you can do whatever you like. Can't you use that famous brain of yours? Continue being who you are, but do it in a place that guarantees your safety."
A sound like footsteps echoed through the fog… or it could've just been the waterwheel…
"You came from a good place and you threw it away. You chose this path."
"They shoved my baby inside out and made it a monster!" Sophie's voice exploded from the stairs. "They didn't even tell me!"
Teresa's eyes flashed to the stairs, locating the sound of her voice. "Kid…" She raised her ax. "We fucking own you!"
She swung her ax into the shadow and felt it crunch. Surprised, she pulled her weapon back. Bits of goo dripped down the ax. "What the—shit, I have to pay for this, too!?"
Racing up the stairs, Sophie tossed away baby Den Den Mushi number two. She had a real talent for murdering innocent snails. She made it to the top of the stairs, ten feet from the door, when she looked back and squeaked, "Uh-oh."
In five seconds flat, Teresa pinned her to the wall and handcuffed her to a pipe.
"Pirates cause too much destruction!" she scolded, smacking her over the head.
"Ow!" Sophie glared. "You know what my file doesn't have on me? I'm also ambidextrous." Sophie tossed the gun from her cuffed right hand to her left, and missed completely. She and Teresa watched it sail inches over her fingertips and clatter sadly to the floor. "…I also have very sweaty fingers."
Teresa shoved her fist into her gut.
Sophie wheezed in pain and managed to gasp, "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait!" She raised her free hand in a surrender gesture. With narrowed eyes, Teresa stopped in the middle of pivoting her fist for another punch. "You're right; I am a freak. But that doesn't mean I'm a bad person." No, what made Sophie a bad person was that she had almost no morals. But anyway. "The compound, the Viran compound, wasn't even in its test stages when the Vice Admiral stole it from me. Did he tell you that? Did he ever mention that I was not involved when he decided to use it!?" She shook her cuffed fist, the metal banging against the pipe. The pain felt like relief. "I didn't even want it sent to Vira! It was experimental, I hadn't written up safety guidelines, I hadn't even checked to make sure I stabilized it, but I was already on the ground when I saw—"
"You're acting high-and-mighty for someone who left the World Government to sail under a notorious murderer," Teresa pointed out.
Sophie swallowed. The movement made the red line on her throat tremble, where Kikoku had left its mark.
"He r-respects me."
"Trafalgar Law is a liar. He'll use you as a weapon. This is how the world works. He'll do anything to get to the Red Line. Don't delude yourself, Director. You're not pretty, well-connected, nor strong; he'll toss you overboard when you're not useful anymore."
The paper door was about ten, twelve feet away. She curled her thumb inside her fingers, preparing to pop it out of its joint.
With effortless grace, Teresa swung her ax and stopped it a hair's breath away from Sophie's neck. "Tangent aside, let me be clear. One: I'm arresting you for leaving the World Government, and only that. I couldn't care less about what happened at Vira. Two: because of Vira and instances like it, Lettidore wants you back. And three: because of Vira and your fallen comrades, you have an obligation to come back and see your job to the end. Kid, you're the fucking Director of G-13's chemical warfare division. Act like it."
There was an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her face was ashen with a cold sheen of sweat.
Teresa tilted her head, evaluating her captive. "I have orders to find out everything about some tinyass island. Cat's Eye. But you wouldn't tell me even if you did know, would you?"
The tiles were very pretty. Very symmetrical. Two by two by two. "Why haven't you knocked me out and towed me to your ship yet?"
"In my opinion, it's pointless to bring you back to G-13. You're universally loathed there."
"Wonder if it's my sunny personality," Sophie rasped.
"Too many marines died at Vira, and many more are dying as we speak. They've called it Strangways Sickness. History will remember you as the executioner."
Her head rose. "Seriously? Strangways Sickness? That was as far as their creativity stretched? They couldn't have thought of literally anything else?"
"Funny, that's exactly what I said." Shrugging, Teresa wiped the edge of the ax on her sleeve. The metal glistened like the side flank of a shark. "I'd rather give you a merciful end. I never go back on my orders like this, but you did your job well and that deserves some acknowledgement. Close your eyes. It'll help."
If Teresa dragged her back to G-13 she was going to die anyway. Law had lost too much blood—he was finished. It was so stupid, so damn stupid, thinking she could use Law because he was strong. He seemed invincible to her, but of course he wasn't. He was fighting for his life just like any other rookie pirate. This was her fault. She brought this on the Heart Pirates… on him.
"W-wait," Sophie rasped. "Can you hand m-me my bag? I want one last smoke."
"I hate the smell of cigarettes," Teresa replied flatly, and her ax swung down.
And she got the wind knocked out of her by a jump-kick from a Heart pirate screaming, "BANZAIIII!"
Teresa spun like a whirlwind and regained her balance. The two women both stared at the new arrival, who looked incredibly self-assured for someone who was only sporting a small towel over his nether regions.
"Sophie-chan!" Shachi exclaimed brightly. "I got lost on my way to the other bathing room!" He pointed at Teresa. "Is she another friend?"
"No!" Sophie shrieked. "Oh, I feel faint…"
"That's a sign of depression."
"It might also be because this is an extremely traumatic experience!"
"Backup is pointless," Teresa snarled, unsheathing the morningstar from her back and now wielding two dangerous and rather large weapons.
Seeing as how her hand was cuffed to a pipe, Sophie had to resort to kicking the pirate's ankle. "Get out of here! She'll kill you!"
Completely ignoring her, Shachi pointed at the CP5 agent. "Say hello to my little friends!"
The paper door crashed open with two more butt naked pirates bursting through with a loud battle cry: "Woooo-hyaaaa! Hiiiya!"
Sophie let out a holler of shocked disgust. Anko and Hai Xing somersaulted in front of her, and while she didn't bat an eye at male anatomy because marine upbringing, she couldn't believe—"Please tell me you didn't use the time you could've spent saving me practicing that!"
Shachi snorted. "Of course not, we aren't amateurs."
"I was supposed to say the cool lines!" Anko shouted, swiveling to Sophie and conveniently mooning Teresa.
She smacked her forehead on the pipe. "Can you three put on some clothes!?"
If there was a word for an confounded-by-your-stupidity–yet-still-preparing-to-rip-out-your-eyeballs expression, that was the perfect descriptor for Teresa's face. Sophie saw the subtle shift in the grip of her weapons as she prepared to attack. Pineapples! "Buy me some time!" she called to Anko and Hai Xing, and pointed at Shachi, "Not you—I n-need your help!"
"Who am I to refuse the call of a damsel in distress?" Anko sighed.
Sophie mimed vomiting and snapped, "Turn around! No one wants to see that!"
Anko leered. "Then why don't you stop looking?"
"I wouldn't mind if you killed him a little bit," she told Teresa.
"Please, like I can't handle a—" Whatever Anko was about to say was lost as Teresa's kick knocked his head back, blood spurting from his nose, and a second kick and set him flying into the far opposite wall with a massive thud! His body was now a dent in the painting of an octopus mermaid wrapping her tentacles around a scantily-clad man. "I'll pay for that," Teresa muttered. She flipped the ax and morningstar around her wrists and turned her eye onto Hai Xing.
Hai Xing swallowed. "Can I call a time-out?"
While Teresa proceeded to decimate the pirates, Shachi ripped a thin pipe from the wall and jammed it into her cuffs, forcing them open. Sophie pointed out a water storage tank in the corner and laid out her plan to the mechanic. The walls rumbled as Shachi proceeded to peel the tank open with deft fingers. Hai Xing somehow managed to press Teresa to the lower floor, spinning a mop around his hands like a bo staff. A recovered Anko, strengthened with his massively wounded pride, jumped in the fray.
Teresa flung Hai Xing into the waterwheel and Anko into a pile of boulders. On the floor above them, Sophie mentally calculated the surface area and volume of the tank, and reached for some handy dandy salt in her satchel. Hai Xing's legs wiggled in the hair like a hapless fish. Before Teresa could land the finishing strike, Anko yanked the entire waterwheel off its hinges, dodging the ax slice. The two pirates slid and slipped to their feet a few paces away from the murderous agent.
"Teresa-san!"
Teresa, Anko, and Hai Xing looked up.
Sophie stood over them, bloodied but vaguely triumphant. "This is for getting my clothes dirty."
Shachi yanked on the shower knob and the showerheads he and Sophie held sprayed bitingly cold, supercooled water over the bathing pools. Hai Xing shoved Anko back underneath the stairs, into safety. The fog instantly vanished in a whiff of smoke and snow burst out from the contact between the sub-zero water and steam.
In a second, the bathing pools transformed into a winter wonderland. The waterfalls froze in jagged icicles. Spiderwebs of ice formed in midair, directly in front of Teresa's eyes, before coalescing all around her in a Teresa-shaped ice cube, freezing her to the spot. Her ax was still raised and her frozen expression was one of wide-eyed disbelief. She was a shiny, motionless statue.
Shachi gazed at the delicate snowflakes drifting over the rubble and the agent who would not be moving any time soon. Sophie examined the outcome with pursed lips. Not her best snow show, but hey, it worked!
Anko and Hai Xing appeared back on the upper level, shivering and pulling on bathrobes. "What. The. Hell," Anko said.
"I supercooled the heating system by adding sodium chloride," Sophie chirped.
"You just carry a bunch of salt with you wherever you go?"
"Yes."
"…That's kinda badass."
Shachi high-fived her. Anko gave her a thumbs up. Hai Xing didn't appear to be as despondent as usual… or it might've just been because his face froze that way. She beamed and picked up her revolver. After a second, Sophie realized something off-putting. She looked down to double check, her brow furrowed in surprise. Her hands. Her hands were steady, unmoving, not even shaking the tiniest bit. She flexed her fists with a little exhale. If Hippo could see her now, she knew with every fiber of her being that he would be happy for her.
Sophie suddenly gasped. "Oh my god, we have to save the others! And Law-san!"
Shachi bounded forward. "Lead the way, Sophie-chan! Hey, and if we meet any other weirdos…" He clapped her on the shoulder. "We got your back!"
The universe worked in a funny way.
Looking back, Sophie didn't know when Shachi's smiling face was replaced with a morningstar impaling the side of his cheek. It happened too fast, too absurdly, her brain couldn't follow. One second he was there, the next, he was sinking to the floor with bloody spikes sticking out of his head. When Sophie turned to follow the movement with vacant eyes, twin hook swords flew from the emptiness and skewered Anko and Hai Xing through their chests like pirate shish kabob.
She spun around shooting bullets so fast her hands burned from the recoil, screaming into the frosty chill.
Teresa moved faster.
She was so close Sophie could count the ice chips twinkling on the edge of her lips. The revolver clicked. Didn't matter. She kept desperately firing blanks as though it could make the agony go away, as though it could do something, anything, please, this can't be happening—
With one swift motion, Teresa severed Sophie's head from her neck.
The head bounced a few times and rolled to a stop by the ajar door.
"I warned you," she said softly, lowering the ax. Though no one would believe her if she said it aloud, it was true that Teresa didn't want this outcome. She loathed to imagine the look on Hippo's face when they'd tell him—
The Director's arm shot out and latched itself on her throat.
She choked out a gasp. The grip squeezed, crushing her windpipes, but she was still smaller, and weaker, and decapitated. Teresa swiftly sliced the arm off her shoulder and kicked the body to the ground. She yanked the hand off her neck and threw it on the corpse with a sneer of disgust. Even in death, the Director was still full of surprises.
The pirates weren't moving. They'd bleed out soon, if they hadn't already. Brushing snowflakes from her hair, Teresa opened her baby Den Den Mushi and called the rest of her team. "Target death confirmed. Mission over—what do you mean, you're under attack?"
When Teresa finished rescuing the other Cipher Pol agents, she came back to find the bathhouse in smoldering ruins. Someone had set off a bomb in the time she was gone, and the dazed survivors described smelling a curious scent of pineapples lingering in the air. But as for the many human remains, Teresa had no way of identifying them.
Rival gangs, the survivors murmured, happens sometimes. Territory disputes. Bet it was those damn fishmen. Dirty things, they are. Not even human.
Her scouts could find no trace of a yellow submarine on the harbor. She paid for the damages dealt to the bathhouse and the monastery as her agents licked their wounds. Kunlun was far too big to launch a full-scale investigation, and she certainly wasn't getting paid to do one. Her superiors were pleased with these results, anyway. They accepted this odd outcome and wiped their hands clean of Strangways Sophie. All that was left to do was tell Lettidore and Hippo…
So this was how Teresa left Kunlun: standing on the deck of her ship, several thousands beli lighter. She watched the mountain fade from sight with a twinge of uneasiness. As if mocking her, the pirate city continued with the cheerful hustle and bustle of life. Bar fights and glittering bordellos shined like tiny stars over the horizon.
—
Deep below the surface of the ocean, a sunshine shadow cut through the current. Inside, past the pile of bloody clothes in the laundry room, past Bepo scanning the navigation systems—Shachi sat on a stool before the body of Strangways Sophie. He leaned on his elbows and cradled her head. After cleaning the blood off, he stuck it back on her neck.
"A little to the left," the head directed. Shachi obliged.
Sophie sat up straight and cracked her neck. "This is like the fifth time I died."
"How're you feeling?" Penguin asked.
"Rad as radishes," she croaked.
Shachi laughed, half of his head plastered with bandages. He didn't look so hot, either. Law spent an hour in surgery, repairing Shachi's partially crushed face with his powers. Shachi refused to take a bed, though, saying that his legs and arms were fine and he wanted to get back to work ASAP. Hai Xing and Anko slept on the two beds beside Sophie's. Small kerosene lamps illuminated the bay in a comforting sepia glow.
She huddled up against her pillow. She could still feel the ghost of Law's touch digging into her skin as he carried her. His fingers were slippery and smelled like copper—he had dug out the seastone bullet from his leg with his bare hands. From behind the bathhouse's door, he perfectly copied the angle of Teresa's slices with Kikoku. Then he dropped one of her grenades and Roomed them all to the submarine. But it was a hollow victory. She felt no joy that she managed to scrape through it. It took Teresa mere seconds to decimate Shachi, Anko, and Hai Xing, and just thinking about it made nausea sour her throat.
"So…" Penguin started with an air of attempted lightheartedness, "we've been harboring a World Government G-13 Director for the past half a month."
Sophie hugged her knees, her face carefully blank. "Ex-Director. And what do you want me to say? Sorry for not telling a bunch of pirates?"
Said pirates traded a glance.
"Nah," Penguin continued. "I'm just disappointed we couldn't stay on Kunlun longer."
Her voice turned chilly. "What a great loss you've suffered."
"Don't act like a brat after we saved your life," he reprimanded.
"Why would I tell you I was their lead chemist after they basically told me to shove off and die? After the shitstorm I caused on Cat's Eye because of my own incompetence?" Her voice was steadily rising. "Before this, I had all the lab chemicals money could buy and now I'm presumed dead and on the run, so sorry I didn't inform you of the amazing human disaster that I am."
"...Apology accepted," Penguin said after a pause.
"That was dramatic," Shachi voiced.
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Don't act like you're better at me at this talking thing, we're all socially inept in here." (She noticed with another awful sinking feeling that her fingers were once again tapping nervously on her elbows. It wasn't going to end this easy. Nothing ever did.) "I'm not the director of anything anymore, and I don't want to be. I'm just Sophie."
Penguin nodded. "Yep."
"Got it, Sophie-chan."
And that was that.
The sick bay's door opened and their captain entered. Shachi averted his eyes. With help from a crutch, Law limped over to the edge of Sophie's bed. His eyes were red and sunken. The clean clothes and shower didn't quite take attention away from the ugly bruises on his… everywhere.
"Wow," Sophie said. "You look like poop."
Penguin snickered. Law did a little bow for the peanut gallery. "But still standing thanks to you," he said courteously. "You saved my life."
It was the first time he showed her gratitude in front of his crew. She felt a subtle vibe change in Shachi and Penguin... there was a different look in their eye when they offhandedly glanced at her. A flush of warm embarrassed pleasure colored Sophie's cheeks. "Ye—um, yeah." She coughed. "It's whatever. Y'know. All good."
Law moved to his red-haired crewmate, who was suddenly very interested in his feet. He clapped his hand over the back of Shachi's neck—who looked terrified—and pulled him closer, so their foreheads bumped. Unspoken forgiveness and acknowledgement passed between them, and for a second, their faces lit up with grins, the two men didn't look like they'd ever met CP5. Sophie met Penguin's eyes. They shared the same smile.
"Well, I better go see if anyone needs any help—or another seat at a poker game, whichever comes first," Penguin said breezily, and left.
Shachi stood up with a wobble. "I should get back to work."
Law nodded. "We need extra hands in the galley now that Hai Xing's out of commission."
"Er, I was going to go down to the engine room—"
"Yeah, we're starving," Sophie added. "Potato peeling is tough business. Shachi, go to the potatoes."
"But I have maintenance to—"
"The potatoes need you," Law insisted flatly.
Shachi glanced from one stony face to the other. "This is my job. I have to take care of the sub—I have to take care of all of you."
"That's my job as captain. Your job is to follow orders. So follow them and get some fucking rest."
Shachi was smart enough to recognize a losing battle when he saw one. He shuffled his feet a little, adjusted his hat, and grinned. "See you guys at dinner."
With his crewmates either gone or sleeping, Law dropped his composure and sat down with a heavy thud on Sophie's bed. He buried his head in his hands and exhaled one long, quiet breath. His spine folded like a weary frown. How did he manage to age decades in the span of three seconds? She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—the dye was fading, yellow peeked out at the roots—and commented, "I thought you were stronger when I met you."
"Fuck off."
"But I also thought you were a monster."
His head rose out of his hands and Law looked at her, his mouth slanted wearily.
"Wish I was," he said roughly. "Maybe then things might've gone different."
You tried your best. It's not your fault. All's well that ends well? Ew, anything she'd say in response would just sound stupid. She awkwardly stared at her knees. The silence made it worse. Law seemed to get irritated with himself, because a few seconds later he scooted closer to her. "Show me your hands."
She did. Uncomfortably. With much fidgeting.
Law's fingers grazed her skin as he unwrapped the bandages. "I can do it myself," Sophie murmured. "I am a certified medic."
"Barely."
"Shut up."
No one gets by in this world by themselves, Shachi told her. But was it really okay? If Lettidore found her, could she let Law shoulder the burden by himself? And what if he decided her usefulness didn't make up for the weight of her baggage? Law prioritized his own goals first, which was perfectly reasonable. But could she do the same with how things were? Could she choose Law over herself? The rest of the Hearts could answer that question without hesitation.
But Sophie couldn't.
Law said he thought she was using him as an escape, and Sophie had actually agreed with him then. She relied on the Heart Pirates a lot. Like, a lot a lot.
She relied on him to help her get rid of Saint Kasimir's body, to keep her secrets, to fight on her behalf. To clean up her messes, basically. To give her pretty guns. When she hurt Nellie, she ran to him. She used to rely on Hippo and Lettidore to make excuses for her. It was like that her whole life. God forbid she became strong enough to fix her own mistakes. She tried and epically failed, and the missing princess of a lost kingdom paid the price.
But it was worth trying again, wasn't it?
She couldn't stand back and let these pirates take care of it all for her. They couldn't. It wouldn't be like today; they had their captain's goal to take care of. And Sophie still had to find a way to take care of herself, first. After all, for everything Teresa goaded her with, the agent was honest. G-13 probably thought she was dead, which was great, but there was still Lisbeth, and there was still all those weapons she made… all of her children in Lettidore's hands…
Law tossed the bandages on the nightstand. He held her hands to the light, his eyes tracing over her disfigured skin. She ignored the shiver crawling down her spine. "Well, patient, all the burns have healed. You're finally free."
It was the first time in almost three weeks since she hadn't felt the stiff presence of antiseptic-smelling cloth. Her hands drifted over and touched the tips of Law's fingers. It wasn't much, but it was the only comfort she knew.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he twined his fingers around hers. He was so cold. Like dipping her hands in ice water. Her thumb brushed over a thin scar on his knuckle. The veins on his hands twitched. His grip was loose enough to pull away from, if she wanted to.
"You're clammy," she said with a small laugh, holding tighter.
Law made an offended noise.
"Don't be mad, my hands feel like sandpaper." Sophie smiled, and then wondered if she looked like a complete idiot with her black eye and cut up face. She could feel dried blood crusted around her ear. Ah well, Law looked worse, so. "Sometimes I worry if I'm growing overly fond of you."
The side of his mouth twitched. "I hear that's a common trait among my crewmates."
"Not a crewmate. Still don't have a uniform." She threw his words right back at him.
"That can be fixed," Law smoothly returned.
She smiled at him slowly.
"…You're like the perfect escape. Being with you is so easy. I'd love to set sail on this submarine… but it's not that simple. Our goals aren't that simple." She wished it was. But Anko and Hai Xing were unconscious on either side of her, bandaged and bruised. "I brought this on you. Teresa was after me, and it wasn't cool to burden you with that. Not quite crewmate material."
His fingers tightened. "On the contrary, you've met my extraordinarily high expectations. A captain helps his crew… provided the crew has abilities the captain can use."
He was a good captain, she saw that. And he had it tough. Especially now, after Teresa, he had a lot of rebuilding to do. "Law-san…" How to explain? How to tell him when it hurt so much to remember? "I… used to think war was some epic, grand thing. But it's not. It's… mercury in the water. Nights huddled in the mud, tapping codes until you can't feel your fingers anymore. Marching endlessly." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore, but… the point is I'm paranoid, Law-san. I'm a paranoid, anxious, tightly wound ball of cigarette ash, and I will not be a means to an end."
He was so close she could map all the bruises on his face like constellations. The lamplight made his grey eyes flicker bronze. "I won't exploit you like G-13 did."
Sophie laughed hollowly. She didn't believe him. Her fingers looked quite lovely wrapped around his, the color of gold against his dark skin. Law remembered when he used to enjoy looking at her in this light—her face was half shadow, darkness kept secret. Not anymore. He wanted her in the blinding sunlight, squinting, with a toothy smile like razorblades. He wanted her with her hands open and showing the world every pretty mutilated finger.
"My life was destroyed by a chemical sickness," Law told her.
"…What sickness?" She sounded terrified all of a sudden, gazing at a fixed spot over his shoulder.
"Amber lead."
He felt her pulling away, but he held on tighter. He had to, or else Sophie would never think of them as equals. Now more than ever the Heart Pirates needed all the help they could get. "I know more than anyone what a brilliant chemist is capable of. You won me over. If you find it easy to be around me, then it's simple: don't leave."
Just three days ago, in almost this exact spot, Law told her to take care of herself and have a nice life, see you sometime never. Oh, how funny the universe could be.
"I want you to take me to Idyll Island. I'm going back to G-13."
His hand slackened for an instant, and she pulled back. Sophie gazed stonily at him, half her face shadowed but for cold steel blue, and there was once a time when he liked her that way.
"I'm going to burn my files, kidnap Hippo-sensei, and then I'm going back to Vira with a cure."
Anko let out a snore and rolled over. Hai Xing stared at the ceiling, making no sound. Bepo's upbeat voice carried from the speaking tube: "We anchor at Machinastein in a week! Smooth sailing from here on out."
to be continued
End Notes (11.17.2017): This is a checkpoint for readers who are binging this fic in one sitting. Congratulations, you crazy kids! You've officially read over 100k words as of this chapter! Now please just drink some water and go to bed. This story will still be here when you return.
trivia
causatum theories: causatum means "something that is caused"; cause-and-effect, action and reaction. it represents how all of sophie's decisions have not only lead to teresa coming after her on kunlun, but also her choice to go back to g-13. not because she necessarily wants to when she could be a pirate, but because she has to. i think it's a pretty brave act, and this is supposed to be where i want sophie to come across as intentionally admirable to the reader.