Thank you's to these gnarly-ass papayas: geckogal077, HesperideIsis, xXLovelyAnimeLoverXx, Riku D, Shiningheart of ThunderClan, DemoniaDew702, writergirll7, Alkitty, Nurofen, Lucy Jacob, Girl-luvs-manga, 10th Squad 3rd Seat, hooligans in hoolahoops, Velonica14, SNicole25, Guest, little101, animepsyco, Chell of Aperture, Mari, Memory25, Nickpick, luffys, minty, Sheep, AquilaAudax, Traffy-kun, nothing new in this world, superattackpea, hannah, leilasauvignonblanc, Shallowsmix, whiskedaway, Guest, and wispie!
—
methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #13
an idyll interlude
—
three days previous
—
Contrary to the long pause following Sophie's announcement, the way Law spoke next was abrupt and precise: "Don't be foolish. Even if you survive, finding a cure for a chemical disease will take years."
"That's why I have to start now. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
"You know," Law began, and paused. "I got shot for you."
"And I am truly humbled and gracious," Sophie replied sweetly.
He scowled. "You have a plan, I assume?"
She told him everything; the layout of G-13, the patrol times, how many people work on each level, what her sensei's schedule was, what the mess served on weekdays. Everything. Not a single muscle in his face twitched. She was impressed with how stoic the pirate doctor could be (wow, massive urge to poke his cheek). Sophie crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
"And you thought of all that just now."
"I'm kind of brilliant, remember."
"Don't smoke around me," Law snapped as she was pulling a cigarette out. "How could you possibly think of doing something so foolish?"
"What? I haven't been diagnosed with cancer yet—"
"You're trying to infiltrate a Marine base—"
"Which has also been my home for the past almost twenty years," she shot back, shoving the cigarette back in the pack. She lowered her knees and criss-crossed them in front of her. "I'm not some… vagabond orphan or a country gal running away from her little hick village or… you know, whatever. I had a life before I met you. I had a family. Which means I have loose ends to tie up. Do you just want me to throw that part of myself away?"
Yes, he thought.
"The Vice Admiral still has of my blueprints for things I hadn't built yet. And he's already made it clear he can't use them properly. I want them back—" and right there Law saw something pulse in Sophie's expression, saw her eyes spit fire and her teeth grit, "—they don't belong to anyone else, they're mine."
She took a breath and her face rearranged. Sophie hadn't realized it. She doesn't even know.
"Besides…" She hesitated. "If there had been a cure for a-amber lead poisoning, wouldn't you… have wanted to find it?"
Law rolled his eyes upward. "That's neither here nor there. The past cannot be rectified."
"So you'd leave your people to die?"
His cold gaze traced daggers over Sophie, who realized the loaded gun of a question she just asked.
"I'm s-so sorry, that's n-not what I—"
"No, it's a clever tactic, going for someone's weak point," Law said apathetically. This just proved that Sophie was what he was looking for: ruthless without even realizing it. He shouldn't have made himself vulnerable in the first place. "What I was saying was, it's pointless to dwell on what you can't control."
"I know, and I—I shouldn't have said that," she mumbled, tugging at her shirt as though she wanted to disappear into it. "What I t-tried to say was that, I s-still have a chance to fix things. And I sh-should at least try."
Sure, she had good intentions. He tilted his head, thinking about the situation that would be most favorable to him. She was dead-set on returning to her old home, fine. But her ultimate goal wasn't leaving the Heart Pirates. In fact, what Sophie wanted in essence was something Law could be interested in… could even help her with. "Go to G-13, bring your shit back. I'll help you find a cure."
"But… but it'll take years."
"Not when you have me as a partner," he explained, obviously.
Sophie didn't clap and beam like how he expected. "Thank you," she murmured. "But I want Hippo-sensei to be with me. Would you let my father into your crew?"
"…You're fucking kidding."
"Not even a little."
He tried his best to keep calm and clear-headed and oh I could knock her unconscious so fast, one swift pinch to the neck, and then off to Machinastein we go. Law rubbed his aching leg, rolled back his shoulders, and commanded, "Let's approach this rationally."
—
two days previous
—
Only a few Heart pirates were awake so early in the morning. Not one for much sleep, Sophie headed down the stairs to the first deck, muttering under her breath and coughing on a cigarette. "Down the steps… past three doors… paw is three letters, Bepo has paws, B as in Bepo as in bathroom…"
Sophie squinted at herself in the mirror. Her reflection's yellow roots were showing; the black dye fading at last. She gingerly poked her black eye and winced. Come on. You're supposed to be smart.
She peeked in the empty washroom, locking the door behind her and tugging off her clothes (spare shorts and a tank thrown at her by a groggy Penguin far too early in the morning). The sound of her feet padding over the icy cold floor echoed over the line of shower heads, the deep-soak bathtubs. The stillness made the cramped washroom seem three times as big. Sophie cranked the shower as hot as it would go and sighed happily as steam rose up around her.
After scrubbing herself raw and tying up Penguin's shirt so it fit, she headed to the galley. The interior lights all along the hallway were dimmed. Cerulean light speckled with the colors of sunrise filtered through the portholes.
Shachi was the only one in the empty galley, fixing himself leftover Kunlun dishes. "Morning," he croaked, bandaged up like he went through a cheese grater. "Hydraulic system's gotta be vented out. Gonna get an early start on it."
"You'll sleep when you die?" Sophie asked sympathetically.
"That's the game plan."
She poked his wounded shoulder.
"Ow!"
"That may be sooner than you realize if you don't get more rest," she pointed out, rummaging through the refrigerator. "Do we have any pudding?"
Shachi pouted at her, then clutched his cheek with a pained cringe.
Penguin entered, drowsily greeting Sophie with a pat on the head. "What are we arguing about now? Did Shachi put his boots in the dishwasher again?"
"They needed a good wash!"
"Hey, pass the congee." Penguin motioned at the big pot beside Sophie. She ladled out three bowls of the rice porridge, keeping two for herself. "You planning to eat us dry?" he mused, accepting the bowl.
"That's actually a good idea. Why didn't you suggest that sooner?" Sophie scooped up what Shachi got: salted duck eggs and a side of fat sausages fried with red chili peppers. Manta ducked inside and sniffed.
"Smells saucier than a conga line of hookers on a tomato farm. Shachi, ain't it a little early for you to be up?"
"No rest for the wicked," he responded.
Manta boomed in laughter. "Well, 'justice never sleeps'. Ain't that how the Marines say it, little lady?"
"How should I know?"
The pirates all gave her a Look.
Sophie sighed. "Yeah, that's a thing."
Laughter followed her as she hopped on the edge of the counter. The pirates busied themselves, turning on stoves, grabbing whistling kettles, and passing around utensils. Manta tossed bowls to the two other pirates, who caught them without looking. Penguin jostled Shachi to get to the stove. He blocked him, dramatically going on about how Penguin was cutting before a cripple.
"Sophie-chan! Help me!" Shachi cried, gleefully beating back Penguin's hands. "No able-bodied pirate should get food before us!"
"Oh, shut up, it's a flesh wound! I'm hungry, damn you!"
Manta picked them both up by the scruffs of their boiler suits and set them aside. "Let's all take a deep breath—and let Manta have first pick of the food."
"Wha—I don't fucking think so!"
"Yeah, get in line!" Shachi turned to Penguin. "This is so your fault."
Penguin promptly smacked the hat off his head ("Oi!"), and Sophie burst out giggling. Shachi narrowed his eyes at her. "Sophie-chan, are you wearing different clothes?"
Mouth full, Sophie pointed at Penguin.
"You're wearing Penguin's clothes?" he wailed melodramatically, clutching his face.
"Oh, yeah," Penguin said, blinking. "Get that washed before you give it back to me."
"I can wash it," Shachi offered. "You can give it to me when you're done, or, like, whatever, I'll definitely drop them off in the laundry room if you want, not a big deal or anything—"
"What about your boxers?" Sophie asked, licking her fingers.
Penguin shrugged. "I have a bunch. You can keep it. You need it more than I do, anyway."
Blank-faced, Shachi turned to Manta. "I think my heart just had an aneurysm."
"Good morning, Hearts!" came a loud, peppy voice from all the speaking tubes on the submarine. "This is Valross filling in for our beloved helmsman who is recuperating from near death. I'd like to welcome a very special chemist onboard the Cruise of Love—" here, Sophie had a choking fit, "—destination: The Democratic Republic of Machinastein. Sailing duration will be around six days and we're expecting a smooth trip. Once again, thank you for choosing to sail with us today and we hope you enjoy the voyage. Just a reminder I'm holed up in the control room if you ever wanna stop by—oh hey, Cap! What are you—"
"Your attention, please," a chilling voice interrupted from the ceiling. Shachi switched off the stove, so the galley became quiet. "Our destination has changed. At the behest of Strangways Sophie, our submarine is sailing towards Idyll Island. Let me remind you all it is a small divergence from our main route, and we will be back on course within a day after the drop off is concluded. After, we will be back on track to Machinastein." A pause. "This has been your captain speaking." Another pause. "…Over."
The galley was dead silent. Sophie dabbed her mouth with a napkin like a proper gentlewoman.
Then, Valross' voice in the background: "Why is Sophie-chan leaving?"
The galley's speaking tube was located between the cabinets and the freezer. The pirates parted wordlessly as Sophie walked through them and spoke into the tube, "I'm going back to G-13."
Shachi burst out laughing, then went quiet when he realized Sophie wasn't kidding. His spoon fell out of his mouth. "That wasn't exactly how I was gonna break the news," Sophie said after a pause, looking around at the pirates. "Um. So. Thanks for the food." She sped walk out the kitchen, pushing through the door, her ears bright red.
Penguin stepped forward, his arm raising, but Manta pulled him back with a shake of his head.
Her boots stomped down the hallway. Her face was so hot it hurt. How dare Law put her on the spot? She made it quite clear last night that if she didn't have the massive knot of guilt, responsibility, and righteous anger at G-13, she would become a pirate without skipping beat. She was headed for Law's cabin, prepared to give that stinking pineapple a piece of her mind, and coming from a girl who's only superior aspect was an engorged brain—that was a legitimate threat. But then, at the last second, Sophie pivoted and strode up the stairs to the second deck, threw open her closet door, and hopped on the hammock. Burying her face in the pillow didn't distract her from the pain in her stomach. (Probably acid reflux.)
Law had every right to tell his crew about her intentions to leave. It wasn't supposed to be a secret. Getting angry wasn't going to change anything. What right did she have, anyway, when she was already hitching a free ride to Idyll Island? Just keep your mouth shut and you'll be gone in two days.
Sophie lit up a cigarette and took a deep inhale, then rested her hand on her stomach.
She glowered at the ceiling for so long bits of ash wrinkled her shirt. She didn't know that at this moment, Shachi and Penguin were in Law's cabin, arguing to make Sophie stay. She didn't know that at this moment, Hippo was being notified his daughter had died at Teresa's hands.
Really the only thing Sophie was aware of was that she wasn't leaving this hammock until she couldn't ignore her bladder anymore…
She tossed and turned on the hammock, too angry to nap. Two more days.
And then she'd be out of Law's hair forever. She hoped he'd be glad. She freaking hoped he'd sob out of appreciation. No more stupid little sentimental chemist to look after… Yeah, she'd gladly skip off into the horizon with Hippo, that was gonna be her happy ending even if she had to blow up the entire planet to achieve it.
Sophie rolled over, biting back the burning sensation behind her eyes.
Two more days…
A blue light flashed over the closet.
She dropped to the hallway floor with a shriek. Law stood over her. She scrambled to her feet. "W-w-what is wrong with you? I c-could have been changing! I could have been handling really dangerous objects like… h-hydrochloric acid, or—my shoe! Look at how dangerous this is. Look at it."
He was leaning on his crutch, appraising her coolly. She couldn't tell if he was glaring or the bags under his eyes had mutated.
"You have no sense of coordination or combat technique. How do you expect to take out a Marine base?"
"My grotesque caterpillar eyebrows have terrified people into cardiac arrest before," she replied seriously. "If I cross my fingers and pray really hard…"
Law stuck a broom and a dustpan in her hands without even a grin. It's like nothing had changed from when she first came aboard, all the way back on Drum Island.
"Since you've made it clear you're staying on my submarine as a guest, you will receive the guest treatment. You'll gain access to commodities such as food or bathrooms by pulling your weight. Get to work."
"Wow. Not even a good morning?"
"Cancer." Law plucked the cigarette from her lips and Roomed it overboard. Sophie gasped and raised one hand to her chest. "Just trying to save your life."
"I could quit anytime," she sneered.
"Coming from you, I can believe it."
He was looking over her shoulder as he said it, and for a second Sophie wasn't even sure she heard right. The accusation was just there, hanging in the air, bland and inelegant. Without a word, she spun around, swallowing the urge to pummel him with the dumb broom and the dumb dustpan.
She didn't notice that Law made sure she rounded the corner before limping back to his cabin.
She spent the rest of the day making the submarine spotless. It was well-maintained to begin with (of course, with Law being their captain), and it was mindless work. The mechanics didn't let her clean the engine room (way too many hazards for a submarine newbie), and the crew's cabin was barred from her by several flustered pirates, so she stayed in the hallways. It gave her time to think, anyway. To ponder, panic, have multiple existentialist crises, all that boring stuff. She passed through lunch and dinner quickly, grabbing a plate in the galley and rushing back to her closet, not wanting to bump into anyone troublesome.
Later that night, she moved into the sickbay. She waited around the corner for half an hour until the doctor had finished check-ups and vanished back into his cabin, before peeking in the door.
Half a dozen candles were lit, bathing over plates of food and newspapers. A newsboy cap and an black ushanka were lying on the nightstand, freshly washed. It was the first time Sophie really looked at these hatless pirates, without ear flaps or a bill to shadow their faces.
Hai Xing, bandages wrapped around his no-nonsense buzz cut, was immersed in knitting. Faded scar tissue lined the side of his temple, cutting into his hairline. He was skinnier than Anko, the bones of his wrist more pronounced. The brown, beaky-nosed pirate beside him was training with weights; he looked up as the door creaked open, light washing over the visitor.
"Hey."
She shuffled in, sweeping as she went. "G-good evening. How's rehab going?"
"Captain said it'll take another week to be back at one hundred percent," Anko replied, doing a bicep curl with one hand. Sophie went quiet. His smile turned leery. "Shedding tears over my poor, worn body?"
"Yeah, that'll never happen," she replied with complete seriousness.
"Ah, well, the internal bleeding would've hurt less if I'd been saving a crewmate."
Her face turned an interesting shade of maroon and she went back to sweeping, chewing on her bottom lip to keep from saying something stupid (Hippo's etiquette lesson number six, eleven, and eighteen). Turned away, she missed a sewing needle hurled into Anko's face.
"I'm just kidding, Sophie-chan," Anko amended, rubbing his cheek and throwing a sour glance at the cook. "Getting beat up is the funnest part about this job. Don't take me too seriously."
"Won't be hard," Hai Xing muttered. He seemed to be knitting a potholder, or maybe a scarf.
"Hey—"
"Do you find me selfish?"
They turned their heads and blinked at the chemist. She stared back at them evenly, not betraying her stuttering heartbeat.
"Go to confession," Hai Xing advised.
Anko shrugged. "Yeah, basically."
Surprised laughter burst out of Sophie. "R-really? Th-that's it?"
Anko was examining the contents of his nose. "What do you want us to say?"
"I don't know—something about how I'm putting myself first, or giving up freedom—"
"We're professionals in the act of sinning, not on caring if other people do it," Hai Xing said expressionlessly, his needles flashing.
"Huh." Sophie paused. "Well, when you say it like that." She pondered over it. "That makes a lot of sense! Thank you, Hai Xing-san!"
Anko looked earnestly at Sophie, but she just went back to sweeping. He turned to stare at the silent cook, who was immersed in his knitwear. "Well, I'm fucking bedazzled."
Hai Xing didn't look up. Anko turned away with a sulk, and muttered something that sounded like "friggin' midget" under his breath.
"Anko-san!"
"What?" He gave Sophie an innocent look.
"Bullying is destructive for morale because not only does it tarnish relationships among the squad, it also leads to poor communication during times of armed conflict, which puts everyone's lives at risk," she recited.
"Okay, marine, don't get all wet about shit that don't apply here—"
"It's about teamwork," Sophie said forcefully, shifting her weight.
Anko snorted. "I work better alone. Could've taken out that psycho axe murderer by myself, but I got dragged down by this one and Shachi." He held up three fingers. "Dream team: me, Captain, and Bepo. Maybe Penguin as backup. Fuck everyone else."
Silent as ever, Hai Xing was weaving himself into a cocoon. Sophie whacked Anko's head with her broom.
"Hey!"
"Don't be crass!"
"You just hit me in my black eye! I could've died!"
"Hai Xing-san, say something to protect your dignity!"
"I'd really like to get some sleep."
"No, something else! Something passive-aggressive! Make fun of his penis!"
"Underlings, stand down!" came Bepo's voice at the door. The polar bear and the two mechanics walked in, padding across the floor in socks.
"I thought we were done with the underlings thing," Anko complained.
"We are," Bepo said cheerily.
"That's what you said last time."
"And yet you keep coming back for more."
As Anko pointed out 'We live on the same damn ship' in the background, Penguin extracted the broom from her hand. "We can take it from here."
"Oh, um." Sophie stuck her hands in her pockets, digging her nails into scar tissue. "…Okay."
Loud, hearty goodnights were passed around. Penguin refilled their cups with more water. Hai Xing showed his quilt thing to Bepo, and grudgingly allowed Shachi to snuggle with it. The pirates leaned on each other, sitting around the candles, and they always belonged like this, they had never not belonged like this. Sophie shuffled back into the shadows, then turned away.
"Sophie."
She glanced over her shoulder. Penguin was smiling. "Thanks for stopping by. It's been fun."
Her nails pressed deeper into her palms.
"For you, maybe!" she huffed, sticking her tongue out. "I'm sick of being decapitated!"
—
three days previous
—
"Let's approach this rationally. You want to break into a fortified Marine base while not being a combat fighter—"
"It's a stealth mission. I don't plan on fighting. If Teresa-san reports back that I'm dead, and she will, I'll be fine."
"Have you read today's papers? The Kid Pirates plundered three Marine branches near Jaya. G-13 is still recovering from Vira, and they must know they're vulnerable to pirate attacks. Patrols will be tighter, guards more vigilant, monitors everywhere—"
"Some which I helped set up. It'll be like if you ever were to break into this submarine—"
"Without the risk of being captured and executed," Law snapped.
"Well." Sophie paused. "We all have our flaws."
A headache pounded in his skull. It was like his exhaustion and incredulity were fighting to one-up the other. "And these blueprints you're planning on stealing are located where?"
"My highly secure three-tier laboratory."
"Alright. Say you do get in, and you make it through without a hitch, and you somehow manage to kidnap or coerce your father into leaving, and this all happens without anyone spotting you or your ship. You still have to deal with navigating the Grand Line. Returning to a country taken over by the Revolutionary Army." It was like Cat's Eye all over again. What exactly was her plan?
"True." She laughed a little, pleased by his concern for her. "Do you want to help me?"
"There are only certain things I'm willing to risk my crew for."
Crew, as in his crew. Crew, as in you-are-not-a-part-of-mine.
Her small smile remained in place as she nodded. "I know. Anyway, I can handle whatever they throw at me. Lived through you, didn't I?"
He ignored the uncomfortable nudge right between his ribs. Sophie rocked back and forth, running her fingers over the dancing flame like she was plucking the strings of an oud. No wonder she carried so many scars. The flickering shadow-play made her face surreal, alienesque.
"I'll come back. I want to come back. If I get out of there alive, I'll go to Machinastein and find you. I want to be a Heart Pirate." Sophie swallowed. "But if I don't do this, it'll just feel like… I don't know… it'll feel like everything I put my heart and soul in now is just—like I'm avoiding it. Do I, you know, do I really want to join your crew? Or is it because I'm just running away? I'm only a few days away from G-13 as it is; I might not ever have this chance again. I could die tomorrow for all I know."
Law listened silently.
"Don't get me wrong, somewhere down the line I'd still like to be part of your crew. This is just something I have to do before that, you know? You're—you all became important to me… and I'm not taking you for granted, because I honestly did put all my effort into becoming a good candidate for your crew—" She was babbling before she realized it, trying to put it in words how much she wanted to stay, and yet, and yet. "It would be wrong to shed my responsibility, like, I have to put myself first, patch myself up and work from there… instead of staying here with you and forgetting who I am, where I've come from—and it's everything you said, you know, it's an escape, you're just an escape." Law's expression tensed. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "No, that's not what I—"
"You don't need to say any more, Chemist-ya."
Sophie flinched. He gazed past her, totally neutral, because he wasn't about to lose it over some foolish kid, some ex-marine.
"I understand," he continued dispassionately. "The fact we used each other's abilities and resources is nothing more than an exchange of services. So you should… you should do what you want." He cleared his throat, hating that his voice didn't come out as strong as he wanted it to.
"Right," she agreed. Law's reasoning was so… analytical. Even a bit… cold.
Which she expected, yes, but he sounded as if everything that happened was just some sort of… transaction, and neither of them did the things they did because they wanted to. But wasn't some of that true? She demanded he drop her off at Drum Island in exchange for his scalpel, and then at Cat's Eye in exchange for a few bombs—but, but everything that happened afterwards was different, and nothing about it was self-serving, not when she fired her gun at Teresa, not when she carried him in her arms. And she'd never admit it, but it'd destroy her if the small, empathetic things Law did—inviting her in for breakfast after she woke him at dawn to yell at his face, setting up the bioluminescent fungi lamp in her room, holding her hand like it was something precious, something—if he had done that because, what, it was his part of the deal? It was far too late when Sophie felt herself unraveling.
"No," she corrected herself, the back of her eyes stinging, "n-no, wait that's not how I-I feel at all—"
He opened his mouth without thinking, without pausing to regroup and compose himself. "It makes no difference," Law heard himself say. "After all, you had a life and goals and dreams before you met me. So go back to it and stop wasting my time—your sentiment bores me to fucking tears."
Sophie stared at him—and swung her feet to the ground, yanked on her boots, and stalked past him without a word.
This was familiar. He had seen this before.
She turned around right before the door, just as she always did, and he wondered when, when, when will it be the last time?
"I heard monsters can't cry."
After she was gone, Law buried his face in his hands, then immediately raised his head when he caught a whiff of gunpowder and cigarette smoke. "God—" he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.
She was leaving. Good. He couldn't fucking stand her silly suicidal bravery. Good for her, leaving now rather than delaying the inevitable. He was disgusted by how protective her arms felt as she carried him down half a mountain, how her wretched cigarettes made her smell just like—
Law stopped that thought. There was no reason for this pathetic agitation. Things would be better come morning, when he had his head on straight. When he wasn't working on adrenaline fumes and negative hours of sleep. When she came to her senses and pounded on his door at some godforsaken hour in the morning, begging hysterically to be taken back…
Marginally less grumpy, he used his crutch to stand and did a routine check on Anko's vitals. Satisfied, he walked around to Hai Xing's bed and paused.
His eyes narrowed at the slow rise and fall of the pirate's chest. After a long silence, he swept his gaze over the machines, nodded, and gently tugged Hai Xing's blanket over his shoulders.
Thwarted of his powers at the current moment, he limped all the way back to his cabin. Fortunately the submarine was quiet; he didn't think he could've mustered up the energy for anything more than a grunt should someone pass by. He made it into his cabin and right as his legs buckled, his last thought was free-falling through the air with a scarred hand holding him tight—Law fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.
—
one day previous
—
The next day, Sophie rested her chin on the mop handle and watched a three-way spar between Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin.
Law OK'd them for some 'light' physical activity, though this was anything but. They were a flurry of punches and kicks and shit-talking that almost seemed choreographed ("Dumbass, you're using your right leg again to block," Penguin yelled right before Bepo jump-kicked him in the gut). Shachi did a powerful roundhouse flip kick Penguin and Bepo both dodged practically without looking. They must've helped him perfect that move.
There was nothing more entertaining than watching three profoundly close friends fight each other. They each had their own personal style. Penguin was fond of linear attacks and lightning-fast palm strikes, Shachi had a penchant for grappling moves, and Bepo freestyled with flashy kicks and flips.
During their water break, Shachi invited her to join a two-on-two match. Sophie laughed until she started wheezing, then replied, "When Hell freezes over." There was a time and a place to get her butt kicked, and it was not going to be by three of the strongest Heart Pirates punting her around like a deflated basketball. Maybe later, if she came back... when she came back. Sophie brushed the broom idly over her boots.
Her sleeping schedule was bad as always. She woke up every half hour in cold sweat, fell off her hammock around three in the morning, and started cleaning. Nicotine helped with the anxiety, as did coffee.
Ever since Idyll Island went under the protection of Whitebeard, pirate and marine steered clear. It might take a week to hitch a ride to G-13, it might take a few months. Sophie had time to spare. The island was safe, peaceful, and… well, true to its name. How fearsome a reputation one must have, she contemplated. If Law wanted to find One Piece, these were the pirates he'd be going up against…
"Ow! God, right where I was almost stabbed to death!"
Shachi's yell shook her back to the present. Sophie gasped as he fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder. Stammering apologies, Penguin and Bepo dropped their stances and moved to help him up—and Shachi twisted into a windmill on his back, hitting them both with a spinning kick.
"Suck on that, fools! Whattup!"
Sighing fondly, she leaned on the mop handle.
Finished with the spar, the three pirates sat in the middle of the room, drenched in sweat and high-fiving each other. This was her cue.
"Right, guys, your captain wants this place sterilized." Sophie splashed the mop on the floor. "Step aside if you don't want to be on the receiving end of my violence; I have a mop and I know how to use it. No way of guaranteeing your safety. I could decimate you all in seconds."
She went to work scrubbing down the training room.
To her surprise, the pirates washed their sweat towels in the bucket and began cleaning alongside her. They were polite about it for maybe five seconds, and then Bepo splashed Penguin, Shachi snapped his towel at Bepo, and Sophie—on the pretext of roaring stop in the name of cleanliness—accidentally tripped all three of them up with her mop. "Oh! Oh g-god, I'm sorraughhh!" Her arms windmilled as she slipped on the wet floor—Penguin and Shachi caught her by the arms, and Bepo flicked water at her shirt. She flailed after the laughing pirates as it escalated in a sudsy free-for-all.
"You guys suck," Shachi declared, when the cleaning was finally done. Bepo shook the water off his fur like a happy puppy. He rubbed his stinging eyes. "God damn, which asshole thought it'd be fun to get into a soap fight?"
Bepo glanced slyly at the camera.
"Sophie! C'mon!" Penguin yelled from down the hall.
She arranged the supplies closet to glittery spotlessness and followed after the pirates. "I'm ready!"
The Heart Pirates would dock at Idyll Island next morning, and so it was an unspoken agreement upon the whole submarine that tonight they would throw a feast for Sophie's goodbye. Which honestly was just an excuse to drink and eat more Kunlun food. Hai Xing said he felt good enough to make a big dinner, so he did. The kitchen roared with fiery pans and whistling kettles, fridges banging open and knives chopping loudly against a cutting board. Wiping his brow with a dirty shirt, he emerged from the kitchen to the claps and cheers of his crewmates.
The last time she was in the galley, the portholes were pitch-black. This time, someone switched on the lamps outside the submarine and the dark ocean was lit up. The submarine eased through a garden of blue moon jellyfish, floating around crystal rocks and seagrass. They danced past Sophie as a school of catfish sharks glided overhead. Blue light washed over her face as she gazed out the porthole, her eyes glowing.
The long wooden table quickly filled up with pirates. A glorious array of plates, bowls, and flagons were piled on top of the groaning table. Sophie sat beside Bepo and Penguin, almost missing the dark figure limping to his seat.
Once they were settled in, Law knocked on the table. The galley went silent. Sophie gazed firmly at Bepo's elbow.
"Tuck in," the captain said.
The galley became a flurry of clattering chopsticks, knives, and spoons. Hands grabbed slices of char siu pork, dug into honey duck, plucked up sizzling greasy dumplings, sipped winter melon soup, and scooped out rice for each other. She grabbed a little bit of everything as the pirates passed around dishes. Sophie pushed food around her plate so each separate item was in their own section, arranged based on their hue and saturation, then dug in.
"Sweet Roger, we have to go back to Kunlun soon," Penguin groaned.
"Who has the hoison? Pass it here!"
"Sophie-chan, take more! Shit, it's still moving—okay, here ya go!"
"Hai Xing-san, this is so good!" she called, munching happily.
"This mushroom is undercooked," Shachi complained. Hai Xing chucked a duck bone at him.
"I cook a bit myself," she said. "Some salicylic acid, some acetic anhydride, with a dash of phosphoric acid—boom, aspirin."
"That's completely different," Hai Xing, and Bepo, and Penguin, and everyone in her immediate vicinity replied. Law pushed around his sad-looking broccoli, then took a long drink.
"Hey, good luck tomorrow," Penguin said, slurping down braised abalone. "You gotta have a plan of attack, right? Gonna storm down a Marine base and raise hell?"
"Stealth mission. I'm bagging all my research and getting my sensei to leave the Government with me." Sophie beamed, because it was easier to fake confidence. "And in a week or two, we'll be living like a normal family on a normal island."
Shachi wrinkled his nose. "Suburbia. Ew."
"Well, I mean, it won't be 'normal' in the sense of conventional normalcy. Way before Hippo-sensei adopted me, he used to be a huge freak. He used to treat criminals when they're being interrogated so they don't bleed out. As soon as I could hold a pencil, Sensei taught me how to dissect frogs and starfish, then he'd let me try it on a recently deceased cadaver because the blood was fresher," she boasted. "Not to brag or anything, but your dads could never."
"Everything makes sense now," Shachi whispered to Penguin.
"You're so lucky," Valross groaned, staring with envy at the pirates' bandages. "Man, I wish I could've been there, right in the thick of it."
"This lad was busy wooing some fine dame who had better respectabilies than a pirate," Manta laughed.
"Respectability?" Anko guffawed. "They're whores!"
"And so was our mothers, dumbass, so shut up," Hai Xing said.
The table quieted. Sophie peered at the normally stoic pirate, who blinked slowly and kept eating like nothing was wrong.
"The cook speaks," Law spoke up, his gaze resting on the helmsman.
"My bad," Anko apologized (rather flippantly, in Sophie's opinion).
Shachi grinned at the uncomfortable silence. "Remember the last time Hai Xing got all riled up like this?"
The table burst into laughter, clearly remembering something that spoke for itself. Each pirate had something to add to the 'remember when's', and it was all things she'd never heard of, places she'd never been to. Sophie faded in the background, not sure if she could participate in the conversation but wanting to. She earnestly looked from pirate to pirate, but they were all too excited and reminiscent to notice.
"Hey, have you tried the duck?" she cheerfully asked Bepo. He was busy laughing at something Shachi said and didn't hear her.
Sophie forced a smile on her face, staring at her plate with flushed cheeks. From the opposite end of the table, Law contemplated Sophie, then looked at the biochemistry book in his hands. He glanced at her again, and then scooted back his chair to stand up—
"You would've loved it, Sophie!" Penguin elbowed her with a shout.
Relieved, she laughed in agreement (not entirely sure what she was agreeing to). Strengthened by being added to the conversation, she asked awkwardly, "Remember, uh, when Penguin-san and Shachi-san were nearly, y'know, eaten by a cannibalistic plant?"
"Oh, hey!" Shachi yelled, as everyone else laughed. Score!
Anko smacked the table, laughing so hard he had to quiet down or risk his stitches loosening. Law finished brushing crumbs off his bench and sat back down, his butt planted firmly in his seat.
As the night wore on, Penguin had a card game going (Sophie lost spectacularly and to much applause), Bepo, Shachi, and the other pirates drowsily sang off key, and Manta was conked out on the floor, with Hai Xing dozing on his belly. Law had finished off at least five pints and still remained perfectly cognizant. He was even speed-reading a book in his lap. What even. She was only on her second and was already feeling quite tipsy.
With a small sigh, Law shut his book and stood up. "Superb dinner, Hai Xing. Have a good night, the rest of you."
Sophie stretched, feeling a sleepy food coma catch up to her.
"Just a sec, Cap!" Penguin called. Law stopped, and to Sophie's horror, the mechanic nudged her in the side. "Sophie, since you're leaving, this is our last night together as a sort of team. I mean, if you wanna say a few words…"
"No, I'd rather not," she said quickly.
The pirates' eyes gleamed at this chance of mob mentality. "Speech! Speech!" they hollered, banging on their plates.
She cleared her throat. "Okay, so a neutron walks into a bar and—"
"Come on!" Anko yelled.
"Cap, sit down!" Shachi yanked on Law's hoodie when he tried to make a quick getaway. "And don't Room yourself away!"
Bepo patted the bench. "Stand here, Sophie."
"Speak chur hair out," Manta slurred. Hai Xing muttered something about muffins and rolled over.
"But I d-don't know what…" Bepo was already holding her arm to keep her balanced on the bench. "Oh, p-pineapples, okay…" Sophie staggered, swallowing down her nausea. God, I'm such a lightweight… "I… okay, hi, I'm Sophie, and—"
"Hi, Sophie," the pirates intoned.
"Ha ha, very funny. Anyway, I dunno, thanks for all this. I mean," she started over, because that was so wimpy, "I mean, we got off to a bad start. I know I'm hard to get along with, and you're—pirates, you know? You're not supposed to help marines. We're natural enemies and yet you watched my back anyway. That's so stupid, right? Like, it's impractical. It's so beyond the levels of scientific explanation, of pragmatic survival, an' yet y'all show me so much kindness—" Shachi clasped his hands together and did a little 'awwww', "—listened when I was upset—" Bepo beamed, "—and saved my life, over'n over again. I… I'll m-miss you guys, y'know. I'll miss you somethin' fierce." Penguin's grin faded when he caught the look on his captain's face. Sophie, turned away, didn't notice. She raised her flagon. "To the Heart Pirates!"
A dozen cups rose into the air. Yeah, it was a good toast.
Sophie chugged down the rest of her beer, which was not her smartest decision. She didn't remember how it happened, but one second she was tripping over a bowl of noodles, and the next she was in darkness, being rested on her hammock. In the light of her glowy mushroom jar, she could make out Law's features. He tugged the blanket over her shoulders, and everything was fuzzy and warm like hot chocolate.
She rolled over and poked him in the chest…ish area. "Why ya gotta be so mean, huh… why's that, ya big baloopa…"
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Y'should be," she mumbled, curling up under the covers, her eyes drifting shut. "Y'really should be."
He leaned on the hammock, resting his weight on his arms. "I don't want to fuck up with my crew. I don't want them to see me like this over anyone."
"Just be chill…" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Yer good at that… yer important, y'know… t'me…"
Her tousled hair fell across her face, but he did nothing to brush it aside. It was charming. Objectively speaking.
"I know how aggravating loose ends are, and why tying them up is important." It was his whole reason for being on the Grand Line. It would be hypocritical of him to cut her into pieces and lock her up where she'd never be able to leave. Not that he had planned that, no. Certainly not. "Do you what you have to do," he murmured. "And then come back to us."
His answer was a snore.
He had an urge to twirl a curly strand around his fingers, but fought it off. He noticed earlier in the galley he could see her blonde roots showing again. She was still wearing Odin's dog tags around her neck. Little things like that about Sophie were so… strange. She seemed to have no morals, unless it related to Vira. She didn't hesitate to harm others, but was stubbornly pacifistic towards a princess who threatened to take her head off. She was immensely selfish, and then… wasn't at the same time. What a hypocrite, Law thought, eyeing the puddle of drool collecting on her chin.
I'm important to her. Good. After everything he did for her, he should be important. She would've made such a loyal…
Sophie looked so peace, washed over with dim green light. Like she was drifting in the ocean. He felt sleepy just looking at her. I'm important to her, he thought again, and it sounded... satisfying.
"Law-san…"
His gaze shifted at the sound of her quiet, husky voice.
She rolled around to him, her eyes still closed, lips slightly parted. One arm was splayed over her head and the corner of her shirt was halfway off her other shoulder. Her breathing was long and slow. "I wanna puddin' tomorrow… an' stop watchin' me, it creeeeepyyy…"
Law allowed himself three seconds to absorb this new situation, then got his shit together and Roomed himself away. Fucking alcohol.
—
three days previous
—
Sophie listened to the sound of humming and creaking of an engine, the obscure notion of very large things in constant motion. She swayed on her hammock, thinking about their conversation. About Law.
He had such an intensity about him, it was almost frightening. She liked the way his chapped lips pursed in thought, the acidity of his foul language, the way his eyes would smirk at her sometimes. Whenever he was near, her stomach felt warm and her chest hurt.
Perhaps Sophie required an antacid.
'You're not sleeping together, are you?' Nellie's voice echoed in her mind.
A few days ago, she would've mimed vomiting. A few weeks ago, she would've preferred throwing herself off a steep cliff. But this feeling had sneaked up on her, when she wasn't careful. And Sophie didn't like it. She didn't like not being able to brush off Law's harsh words, and she hated how light-headed and off-balance he made her feel. It was so… unnecessary. And it made her feel bad. Not a bad person, but… a bad almost crewmate.
Infatuation, lust, all hormones, all chemical. All explainable. She wasn't getting involved with the Heart Pirates for the wrong reasons. Law would throw her off the sub. Above all else, Sophie was a professional. Who also had a suitcase full of personal issues to work through. A long-ago conversation flitted through her mind.
(I bow down to no one.
Doesn't that just make you irresponsible?
It makes me free. Perhaps freer than you will ever be.
I think so, too... 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.)
Sophie closed her eyes. This was something people chew over right before they fall asleep, forgotten by morning. She was the scientist here, she was in control. Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Hai Xing, Anko, Manta, and everyone else—they were just as important. There's a reason why relationships among marines in the same division were forbidden. It jeopardized the lives of the whole team. Brain chemistry worked different when you were in… infatuation or whatever. It was dangerous. There were so many things that could go wrong.
She was above this. She was in control. And god knows she had enough shit to deal with.
Sophie pummeled this absurd feeling into the darkest recesses of her heart and buried it.
(She'd eat some pudding in the morning.)
—
now
—
Whitebeard's flag rose over the canopy of palm trees, like a guardian protecting the pristine white beach and squawking seagulls. About a mile out at sea, Sophie stood on the deck of the submarine.
"Kinda funny. I thought he'd always been frolicking around the New World."
Law shrugged. "It was a long while back. Even Emperors were once rookies."
"Mmm. You know the Phoenix dude? Now that's someone I'd like to poke around with my test tubes." She clicked her tongue. "Get some pipette action going."
It was only the two of them on the deck. Sophie preferred a quiet exit, while everyone slept away the alcohol inside. She dropped Penguin's clothes off in the laundry room and wore her clean Kunlun outfit; ripped jeans with the shirt tucked in. Law was already awake when she knocked on his door, and agreed to see her off privately. The tension between them evaporated. She would've been way more embarrassed about drunkenly falling over Law last night, if she hadn't already embarrassed herself multiple times and in far worse scenarios. Such is life.
Law stood beside her, relaxed, the breeze ruffling his hair and one eye squinted against the early morning sun. Balancing on his crutch, he outstretched his hand. "Good luck."
She shook it with a obnoxious, "Nahhhh, you don't mean that."
"I do. You'd be wasted as a corpse."
Sophie contemplated him, his tired but well-meaning half-grin, his baggy eyes, his hair still smushed in the side from sleeping on a book, probably.
Then, gripping his hand, she yanked him into a hug. Sophie wrapped her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his chest. Whaddya know, Tin Man has a heart.
He froze, like he wasn't quite sure what to do. After a brief hesitation, he rested his arms on her brawny shoulders and returned the hug lightly.
"You know," she whispered, "I still find you vastly insufferable."
He bit back a secret smile.
"But it's a bit less than completely, I suppose."
He leaned his chin on her windswept hair as the blue Room flickered over them, across the ocean, onto the edge of the beach where the ocean surf met sand. It was a beautiful day. The sky was the clearest he'd seen in a while. He felt her breathe against him.
"What, you gonna miss me?" she teased.
"I thought that appeared quite obvious."
Her head lifted. Wide blueblue eyes met his for a split second—
Shambles.
And just like that, his friend was gone and Law stood alone on the deck.
—
The Idyll villagers were whole-heartedly welcoming during Sophie's stay. It'd take another week for the Heart Pirates to arrive at Machinastein, and the Log Pose would set after two weeks.
So, she had time. And time, for once, felt amazing.
Since she had no money, Sophie ran around the village doing odd jobs for people. She washed dishes for the local bar in exchange for salt, sugar, and baking soda. She helped fisherwomen gather sea turtles in exchange for wonderful, home-cooked food. She stood in front of the blacksmith's shop and recited all the minerals, their chemical properties, melting points, and uses, until the old blacksmith yanked her inside and chucked a broom at her. Score. She'd been meaning to make herself a proper gas mask.
Idyll's economy was pretty much isolated, though merchants occasionally found their way to the island. All the island's shipwrights only built boats for rivers and fishing, not for the rough weathers of the Grand Line. They didn't have the wood to spare on a bigger ship.
Which was why Sophie was biding her time, waiting for a passing merchant ship heading west. She planned it so when the ship passed by G-13, she'd steal a rowboat and vanish into the dead of night.
Not the greatest idea, but it was either that or someone had to hurry up inventing the jetpack.
When she had free time, she spent it weight-lifting coconuts, doing chin-ups, or sitting cross-legged in the middle of her hut, mentally walking through the layout of G-13. She imagined passing by marines on her way down to Kong Dining Hall, through the training courtyards as marines ran laps around her… she heard the drill sergeant count push-ups for new recruits, the thud of boots stomping in line, the faint laughter of young cadets secretly sharing a drink while on duty. She could see it in her mind. The North Tower where her laboratory and all scientists were stationed at; the South Tower where the Vice Admiral and higher-ranking marines lived; and the massive Central Tower with the silver G-13 emblazoned across it…
This focused mentality made it quite easy to live by herself again.
Every morning she passed a seacow shepherdess, floating on a sampan and herding manatees. Every evening she'd fish for dinner in the shallow, crystal-clear ocean outside of her hut. She liked to sit on the pier and watch the sunset burn against swaying palm trees.
(A few 'only's:
Only one case of food poisoning. Sophie spent the whole night squatting in the bushes and quietly dying.
Only two slip-ups, when she heard loud, laughing voices outside her hut, and woke up groaning, "Mornin', guys…" to her empty hut.
And only three anxiety-ridden, sleepless nights.
Was that last one an improvement? No, but it sure was nice to make it sound like one.)
Other than that, she kept herself busy and (tried not to) didn't think much of Law. She almost wished he would say he'd help her fight off her demons, to take on all her burdens for her. But who was she kidding? There wasn't anyone like that in this world.
Flying on the breeze, a piece of paper whacked her in the face.
"Ow!"
Sophie wrenched the bounty poster out of her face and crumpled it in her fists. Straw Hat Luffy could find some other unsuspecting face to terrorize.
On this morning exactly ninety-nine hours and thirty-three minutes since leaving the Heart Pirates, Sophie trekked to the blacksmith's shop after a brisk ten-mile swim around the island. She was gaining all her weight back after Vira—one hundred and thirty-five pounds, so far. With the added bonus of watermelon-crushing thighs.
The blacksmith greeted her, already hammering away at the furnace. The islanders spoke in the same easy, relaxed accent evocative of their home. Sophie's biceps flexed as she threw charcoal into the furnace and poured white-hot liquid metal into cast-iron molds. Payment for the gas mask the blacksmith was making, as she tinkered away at the back of the shop with all the small parts.
Sophie took a break in the front of the shop, out where the fresh breeze came in, sweating and fanning herself with a palm leaf. The sun rose high and hot, baking her tan skin darker.
The blacksmith walked up behind her.
"Wonder what that Whitebeard fella's doing?" she muttered, and cupped her hands around her mouth, "Hey, there! Careful not to get heatstroke!"
Sophie's blood froze.
A dark lump under the shady palm trees tipped his cowboy hat up. He stretched and sprung to his feet. Golden sunlight fell across him from the waist up, and on his back the emblem of the most powerful pirate in the world glowed like some kind of divine mark. Her breath caught. All the fearsome rumors she heard in G-13 came back to her at once.
He bowed at both of them, the jolly blacksmith, and her, a sweat-stained disheveled blob. The healthy glow of weight gain? Gone. Sophie appeared to be shriveling up into a sea mollusk.
The monster patted sand off his shorts. The monster had freckles. "Hello, um. You guys doing okay? No, uh, pirate attacks anywhere? All good?"
Fire Fist Ace, one of the youngest rookies ever, with a half a billion bounty.
Fire Fist Ace, who was once offered a position of Shichibukai.
Fire Fist Ace, who fought the Knight of the Sea to a standstill.
Fire Fist Ace and the blacksmith continued to talk like old friends. Sophie stood rigid, her hands balled into fists.
Right as she was about to slip to the back of the shop, Fire Fist spoke, "Nah, just here for a pitstop. You hear anything about Teach passing through these waters? He's calling himself Blackbeard now, stupidest fucking name if I've ever heard one."
Blackbeard…
(Tell your captain to steer clear of—that'll be Blackbeard territory for a while—and remember: the New Age is a load of shit! Zehahaha!)
Sophie gasped.
The second that noise left her mouth, she slammed it shut. She felt a scorching gaze land on her and coughed, "Oh—oh, oh b-boy, I think I just s-swallowed some sand. Hey, I think I hear s-someone calling me—"
Fire Fist leaped in front of her. "No, no, no. I have a better idea: let's take a walk."
Sophie edged back like a terrified pineapple knowing it was in the presence of a juice maker.
"She's an old friend," the monster told the blacksmith. "I think we should catch up."
"Off with you," the blacksmith shooed Sophie. "Don't worry about the gas mask anymore; no friend of Ace's pays for anything."
"W-well that's very kind of you—but I'm n-not his—" Sophie waved her arms at this—this five hundred and fifty million bounty, what the everloving— "I don't e-even know you! I mean, I know you as in I've h-heard of your exploits, but—"
"So modest." He pressed a hand lightly on her back. "Onward!"
Fire Fist grinned winningly at her. She took one look at that charming smile, those freckles—and bolted.
"Hold on!"
"L-leave m-m-me alone!"
"Lady, I'm not gonna hurt you!"
"Right," she scoffed under her breath, dashing around a lei shop.
Fire Fist was in front of her faster than she could blink. Sophie dug her feet into the sand and almost stumbled into his chiseled pectorals.
"You're not from around here, are you? If you were a villager, you wouldn't be scared of me." Fire Fist's expression was still a mix of interest and humor, but he narrowed his eyes. His pupils glowed a faint orange and started smoking. "So talk."
"Okay!" she squeaked. "I m-met a guy named Blackbeard on K-Kunlun a few days ago. And I'd tell you if I r-remembered where he said he'd be, but I don't, I swear—"
He crossed his arms and stepped closer, forcing her back. He did the thing Law did sometimes, not touching her in any way, able to push her back with the power of his personal bubble. "My crew has a pretty big responsibility to keep an entire island protected from hordes of ravaging pirates. Not only do we defend Idyll, but our territory stretches from Fishman Island all the way into the New World. Do you know why these people are living in peace? Why marines and pirates avoid this place?"
He opened his mouth to tell her why.
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut.
And then Whitebeard Second Division commander, noticeably shirtless Portgas D. Ace, in all his majestic muscular glory, collapsed on top of Sophie with a snore.
WHAT THE FRICK-FRACKIN' PINEAPPLES.
She threw his body off her with a disgusted grunt. He rolled into the sand, his hat tilted askew. Did a Whitebeard pirate just die on her? Was it okay to just… leave him there? She poked him with a stick. He remained motionless, facedown in the sand.
"H…hello? Are you… like, dead or something?"
He snored.
…Oh, whatever.
But he'd get horribly sunburned out here. Sophie dragged him into the shade of a palm tree, threw a bunch of sand over his beautiful pecs, covered his face with a palm leaf, and hustled back to the village. Everything was fine! Nothing to see here!
She made mini fireworks for a farmer's kids in exchange for a few qava roots and candle wicks. Qava was a powerful sedative. Long ago, it had been illegally imported all over the world and was responsible for Idyll's decline and eventually, conquered Whitebeard territory. It was capable of knocking out groups of people without harming them, which was perfect for her plan. Sophie rounded out the day by cleaning the baker's pots and pans in exchange for leftover meat pastries.
The island was quite small. She kept away from windows and transported herself by practically crawling on her hands and knees. But as the day wore on, Fire Fist was nowhere to be seen.
That only made her more paranoid.
Late afternoon, Sophie dashed back to her hut. She passed by a hammock tied between two palm trees right outside.
Fire Fist was chewing on a fishbone between his teeth. "Yo."
Sophie let out a long, trailing wail that ended in a quiet, "Why meeee..."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I… I still don't um r-remember whu—where Cherry P-Pie-san is," she mouth-flailed, sweating. "How d-did you find me?"
"The kind villagers. I don't really have anywhere to be, so until you remember, I'll chill here for the time being." The pirate stretched out on the hammock, grinning.
"…What."
"You're the only lead I've got."
Her cheeks colored pink. "Go t-t-to Kunlun! Ask around there!"
"About a five day trip on my boat, not including sleeping time," Fire Fist reasoned. "More advantageous if I wait for you to jog your memory. Besides, you don't seem to be going anywhere either. No merchant ships in sight. Again, the kind villagers filled me in."
She took six long inhales, and kind of shouted, "You're Fire Fist Ace."
"That's my name." He pointed at her lazily. "Don't wear it out."
How uncouth! This man could give Law a run for his money. "W-why are you looking for Cherry Pie-san anyway?" Sophie shook her head. "Actually, never mind. I don't wanna know. You come into my house, I'll splash you with seawater."
"I'm quivering in my boots," he drawled, and flicked his cowboy hat so it covered his eyes.
Weirder things have happened, Sophie decided, plopping in her hut with another annoyed huff.
Then goosebumps popped up her spine and her whole body shuddered with cold shivers. Sophie rubbed her arms. She was grateful he had a laidback, amicable personality, but most prolific pirates were the same; they were so strong they really had nothing to fear. She once read in a file that Red Hair refused to fight a group of rookie marines and instead invited them to drink along with him. Why would Fire Fist hurt her if he knew he could just raise an eyebrow and her knees would shake? Sophie closed her eyes, calming down. These pirates were not only strong, but also logical. He wouldn't hurt her for no reason.
She wracked her brains for the island Cherry Pie Man said he'd be, but came up short. It felt like so long ago, and many things had happened between. She'd just have to find a way to deal with Fire Fist. Sophie spent the rest of the night making smoke bombs and flash grenades, and got some sleep around dawn. She dreamed about maps, barracks, and running in endless circles around Hippo's shiny bald head.
—
True to his word, the Whitebeard pirate had nothing better to do. He was respectful of her boundaries, but often wandered over to watch her do training exercises. Which was, on this morning, breathing.
Sophie broke through the ocean's surface with a loud gasp. She counted five minutes. Not bad. As she floated back to shore, a long shadow fell over her. Fire Fist stood on the pier, glistening in the sunlight like some sort of primordial sea god.
Sophie glared enviously. "Ew, make your rippling abdominals stop."
He shot her an amused look.
"Wear a shirt!" she called. "No one wants to see that! Have some decency."
He ambled over again a while later, while she practiced fighting maneuvers in a grove of shady palm trees. Sophie jammed her knuckles in the air, imagining she was punching her opponent's solar plexus, then the throat, then a kick at the groin. She did a Shachi-inspired high kick, sand flying in an arc, and stumbled. Fire Fist leaned against a palm tree, munching on a raw fish skewer. Sophie's cheeks burned, but got up and kept going.
"Ah," he said.
She lowered her fists, breathing hard. "Yeah?"
"Your form's good." He swallowed and continued, "Don't do any of that fancy shit, just focus on footwork and stance."
She went back to training in silent concentration, though almost immediately broke it when she accidentally stuck her foot through a coconut.
"Do you have any other hobbies besides beating up tropical fruits?" Fire Fist chuckled.
"I'm a chemist," she said sourly, wiping her foot on the sand.
"Huh." He bit down on his skewer as she tried another kick combo. "Remember what I said earlier."
Sophie huffed, stopping again. She glared at him and stuck her hand on her hip. "You know, I can fight pretty well when I'm in a tight spot."
"That's called luck."
"Or maybe I'm just good at street brawling," she suggested.
"No," the world-class fighter denied flatly.
"I've heard it both ways."
He picked his teeth with the skewer and shrugged.
"Wait!" Sophie called quickly, and chewed on her lip. "Please show me what I can do better."
Fire Fist demonstrated the right way to fall, the right way to take a punch, and let Sophie transform theory into practice. He treated it like a fun sport while Sophie spat sand out of her mouth and brushed sweat out of her eyes.
"Again," he'd say over and over, easily dodging all of her elbow strikes and kicks. "You'll get the hang of it in a few years." He held her by the ankle. "Hey, remember anything about Teach?"
She glared at him, upside-down. "No."
—
Her gas mask was finished. All black, with tinted eyepieces. Walking back from the village, Sophie stuck it in her satchel and sat on the edge of the pier. She kept a weather eye on the horizon for any ships. By now, the Heart Pirates should've arrived at Machinastein…
"You have a particular fighting style for a chemist," Fire Fist noted, sitting beside her. "Aggressive counter-attacks. A habit of targeting the body's weak points. Academic, efficient."
She stretched out her sore limbs, a hint of challenge in her expression. "So?"
"So what's a marine doing in Whitebeard territory?"
"Not a marine." A shrug. "It's a boring story."
Fire Fist shrugged as well and didn't press further. She supposed it didn't interest him much.
They both sat in comfortable understanding of their strangeness, their unfamiliarity, their cordial not-friendship. He took off his hat, letting it rest on his back. Sophie reached into her pocket and took out a handful of qava roots.
"Fire Fist-san, can I see your knife?" He flicked it out and passed it to her, handle-first. "Thank—"
He flipped it out of her reach. "Heh."
Sophie observed him warily.
"Just kidding." Fire Fist tilted his lips, freckles wrinkling, and set the knife on her knee.
"…Thank you." Sophie started methodically cutting the roots into little pieces. "I once read about the qava trade. Back when it was on the black market and everyone wanted to control it." With the knife, she motioned to Whitebeard's flag snapping in the breeze. "Would really suck if that disappeared." Now that's something I thought I'd never say.
He grinned. It didn't quite make it to his eyes. "My job is to make sure that never happens."
Sophie's eyes lit up. "Oh, hey, you've been to the New World, right? Can you tell me about it?"
He shot her a surprised glance.
"You d-don't have to," she said hurriedly. "Sorry if I was being—er, too intrusive. It's just one of those things, one of those f-f-far-flung dreams to venture past the world you know." She paused. "Um... sorry."
"Don't be." The easiness of his smile comforted her in a strange way. "A healthy dose of wanderlust is required for a sailor."
He told Sophie about an island with an everlasting lightning storm, one where you could run on air, where trees were as big as mountains. He told her about a country of samurai and a Yonkou's headquarters that was entirely made of cake. He grew more animated, hands spinning through the air as he described the migratory travels of whales as big as islands, and Sophie listened, delight shining through her as though she could feel the image in her soul.
And for a moment they were just two kids sitting on a pier in the Grand Line, filled with awe at the world they lived in.
"I really like this," Sophie told him. "The way pirates do their own thing, whether it hurts or saves others. You do what you feel is right, and you don't apologize to anyone for it." Her toes dipped into the cool ocean. The horizon was on fire. "It's freeing."
Ace threw his head back and laughed. "Damn straight!"
Smiling to herself, Sophie finished cutting up the qava roots and threw them into a jar. Qava… qava… something about that sounded familiar… like it rhymed with something important…
A place where Cherry Pie Man said he'd…
She gasped and grabbed Ace's elbow. "Holy pineapples, yo."
—
Stars scattered across the black sky like diamond dust. Sophie leaned on Striker, Ace's one-man boat. It was a warm and humid night. When she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was pressing her cheek against a sturdy chest, as tattooed fingers drifted across the nape of her neck.
Sophie opened her eyes, gazing up at the tapestry of constellations. Islands away, Law would be looking up at the same moon as her.
Ace came back shortly after paying his respects to the Idyll villagers.
He threw his bag inside—filled with food the Idyllers had pressed onto him—hopped on his boat, and untied the rope. "Striker isn't built for two people, so I'm going to have to do a little improvising." He sat down, his back leaning against the engine. It was here that Sophie realized the disadvantage of being in a small boat. She sat between Ace's legs, her knees pulled up. He snorted. "Don't make that face at me; you're the one who wanted a ride."
His back glowed orange and spat out fire into the engine. The rest of his body remained normal, shielding Sophie from the heat. Striker glided forward and Ace threw in a little more juice. The engine exploded to life. The paddle-wheels spun furiously. Sophie felt the wind and ocean spray against her face and shrieked in delight. She heard distant laughter from the Whitebeard pirate. The crescent moon shone above Idyll Island, but soon it vanished and there was nothing but the wide open sea around them.
Ace took a break around midnight, lowering the sail and letting Striker cruise.
"You never told me why you were looking for Cherry Pie-san." Sophie fumbled with her a cigarette. "Oh—you don't mind, do you?"
Ace shook his head, then leaned over and lit it with the tip of his finger. He settled back against Striker. "What was he like when you met him? Did he seem happy? Scared?"
Sophie gave it a thought. "Cheerful, I guess. He… came across like someone who doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. Someone who's ready to take on the world, you know?"
"Huh," Ace said. "He killed a member of my crew."
Oh. Sophie played with the hem of her shirt, then asked, "Are you going to kill him?"
He gazed at the moon for a second longer and then grinned at Sophie, starlight reflecting in his cheerful eyes. "Of course."
God, this pirate was terrifying.
You had a good run, Cherry Pie Man, was her remorseless parting thought. He was nice, but he wasn't that nice.
Soon Ace started up Striker again. The stars brightened, diffused, then faded as the sky grew lighter. He was going fast, exponentially fast, and it felt like the boat's speed was only increasing. Every so often, he'd take out food from his bag and munch on it, to keep his energy up.
Dawn came too soon. Three massive white towers appeared over the horizon, right in the middle of the ocean, as beautiful as the day she left it. Nostalgia rose in her chest, tightened, but the firm exoskeleton of remembered hurts crushed it to pieces. She wasn't here to play nice.
Ace slowed down far enough so they weren't in sight of the watchtowers. He whistled. "Hell of a castle."
The sunrise backlit G-13, and the fortress shimmered in the light.
She picked her ear. "Never liked fairytales."
"Hey—oi, oi, what are you—" Ace jerked away, holding his hands over his face. "Jeez, give me a warning!"
Naked from the waist up, Sophie was in the middle of taking off her pants. "Come on, pirate, like this is anything new," she scoffed. She pulled out a heavy rock from her bag and tied her clothes around it, then tossed the bundle overboard.
He heard the splash and peeked through his fingers. "Er… won't you… need clothes?"
"Marine uniforms tend to blend in better among marines."
The blacksmith had gone a step further and turned her deerskin satchel into a form-fitted leather belt that she wore around her chest. It had several small compartments where she kept her bombs. She turned to him. Jaya was a few hours due southeast of here and that was where Ace would head next, hunting for the Whitebeard traitor.
"Thanks for the lift, Ace-san."
Ace stared resolutely into the sky. "Take care. Impel Down is a nasty vacation spot."
She would later recall this conversation with considerable irony. Little did they know they would meet each other again soon, before the Summit War, before she'd watch his screaming brother cradle him in his arms.
But now Sophie just gave him a lingering grin. She tapped her platoon's number on her chest for strength, then inhaled long and deep.
Sophie plunged headfirst into the cool dark depths of the ocean, heading home.
to be continued