Thank you's to: studentloans, Shiningheart of ThunderClan, nbstarchild, Rigoudon3, the everchanging, Lucinda M. H. Cheshir, moonlit mage, eh just someone, Blanke-Slate, sahiarea, AquilaAudax, UnitiedHeartbeat, Kinjiru, WastinTimeWatchinGrass, telleinad, Sammelbegriff, Gues, wispie, BooksandBrownies, BlackDove WhiteDove, crossforces, and Arkeisios!
Sammelbegriff: Yep, this takes place on the current One Piece timeline, and it's referencing the Aqua Laguna the Straw Hats faced on Water 7!
AquilaAudax: Ahh no don't be self-conscious! Thank you so much your review! Honestly I think the world-building frequently gets away from me… but I'm so glad you enjoy it. Here's to more compelling characters!
Thank you klexenia for beta-ing my first draft. Your perspective is indispensable.
—
methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #20
tastes like summer,
sang the panther and the toucan
look up, look up,
behind the red sun!
gods in the machina awaken!
- machinastein folk song.
—
As the Heart Pirates continued to sleep, peacefully oblivious to the enemy onboard, Charlotte Sundae paced around the galley. She had to be at least in her late forties, even though she had the vocal range of a squeaky toy. For such a small, pink lady, she was channeling a fury worse than all of Sophie's G-13 drill sergeants combined.
"If I want to be the Minister of Gelato and Chocolate, I'll have to convince Mama, and I'm not able to do that if I don't have any chocolate!" Charlotte Sundae threw herself onto the table bench with an affected sigh, as though exhausted from turning Sophie's face into a spittle target. "I shall be tragically ruined as a dripsy chocolate-less fopdoodle forever until the end of time."
Sophie palmed Hai Xing's large, pointy knife, fingers sweaty.
"Fetch yer captain," Sundae instructed, fanning herself. She looked curiously sweaty in proper lighting, as though small globs of her were melting right down her neck. "I'd go lookin' fer him meself, but this blasted heat—"
Sophie threw her arm back and hurled the knife straight into the galley door, missing her target by several feet.
"Ye half-baked crumpet!" Charlotte Sundae seemed deeply affronted that she was almost impaled through the head.
Hai Xing was giving her his disappointed face. "I tried!" Sophie wailed.
He stepped in front of her, reaching in his apron pocket to demonstrate.
The single chopstick he threw across the galley sliced into Charlotte Sundae's widening left eye with a horrifying shlurp—and her entire head exploded. Pieces of her flew into Hai Xing's face and hit Sophie before she could throw her hands up. She shrieked, pulling the ice-cold chunks from her hair. It warmed in her hand, melting and turning sticky and whaaaaat the—
"Euuughhllfhghgh!" Sophie shrieked, spitting out the glorp that landed between her lips. It tasted…
Hai Xing wiped his mouth. "Sweet," he muttered, finishing Sophie's horrified thought.
The headless Big Mom pirate was still sitting neatly, legs crossed. The amorphous gelatinous, gloops melting from her neck reformed into a round face and bubblegum-pink hair.
"Alright," Charlotte Sundae sighed, and clasped her soft, doughy hands together. "Let's do it the bloody way."
—
In all respects, bashing your head against a very solid metal wall was not an enjoyable experience. It was painful, and overall quite lackluster, but despite the drawbacks Sophie's heart was racing as she gasped for breath. How did the glucose and fat molecules of Charlotte Sundae's ice cream combine into her own body? She wondered how the bonding worked, and would Sundae be upset if Sophie asked for a sample—
She pulled herself upright just as the cabin door next to her opened.
"Can you keep it quiet out here?" Bepo yawned, rubbing his eyes.
Charlotte Sundae hurled Hai Xing into his stomach.
Bepo tumbled backwards and fell into the cabin and over other Heart Pirates, judging by the yelps of pain. Overhead, Anko's voice from the speaking tubes was hollering, "Hold onto your nipples, boys! We got a mother of a problem anchored next to us!"
"What does that mean, boy!?" Sophie heard Manta shout back.
"It's A BIG MOM SHIP!"
The shock seemed to awaken the half-asleep pirates, as Hai Xing leaped back into the fray and sliced apart Charlotte Sundae's ice cream claw with a bread knife. The ice cream splattered across the floor, and then another, even bigger hand gurgled from her elbow and punched Hai Xing aside. Shachi and Penguin charged at her, but they were pushed back with a wave of ice cream that engulfed the cabin. And then, bedlam.
"What is that?" Shachi screamed, wiping his face.
"Nobody panic!" Manta shouted, giving his upper lip a firm lick. "It's… ice cream."
"Oh my god, move!" Valross immediately shoved aside his crewmates as he attempted to hide under a hammock.
Penguin grabbed the collar of his boiler suit. "Where the hell are you going!"
"I'm lactose intolerant, bitch! Safety first!" Valross was now crawling, dragging Penguin behind him.
Charlotte Sundae's pink curls elongated into a long, semi-frozen hammer, and then quite rudely slammed into Sophie's gut. She proceeded to hack last night's undigested bits all over the floor, and almost missed the burst of blue that exploded through the hallway.
Law stood in the doorway of his cabin at the other end of the hall, clearly having just woken up, with his shirt half-untucked in his jeans.
And Charlotte Sundae stood unharmed, no severed limbs or eyeballs floating where they shouldn't be. A look of malicious amusement crossed her face, though her malice was slightly undercut by her waffle-cone hairclips.
Sophie stared. The pirates stared. Law looked just as bewildered, nodachi gripped in his hands, eyes wide like the pamphlet boy for One in Five Men Suffer from Performance Issues, It's More Common than You Think!
There was a puddle collecting at Charlotte Sundae's feet as she perspired. Melted ice cream.
Sophie waved her hand in the air for attention. "Get her outside!"
A split-second where an inaudible conversation passed between the Hearts, and Manta came charging out of the cabin. He hoisted Charlotte Sundae in the air, bits of goopy ice cream and all, and chucked her towards the deck door, which Bepo kicked open.
The Hearts all went racing towards the deck, and Sophie stumbled after them.
The second she passed through the door, she heard Law say, "Oh, fuck. Fuck it."
Sweating about a third of her body mass away in the sun, a slowly-liquefying Charlotte Sundae stood on the railing, pink apron whirling in the breeze, and lifted one fist in the air. Behind her was her warship: a frigate with square-rigged sails, Big Mom's red-lipped, pink-haired Jolly Roger flapping in the breeze… and three dozen cannons raised.
"Ready!" Sundae trilled. "Aim!"
Pirates scrimmages were not usually the epic things that Sophie read in the history books, like the battles between Gold Roger and Golden Lion Shiki. They were more commonly short bursts of extreme violence, and could occur over perceived rudeness, or endangered goods. While marines all over the world were united by duty and loyalty, pirates did not share a sense of familial love over bloodlust and criminal activity.
A shimmering blue Room rippled over Sophie's head, covering the Heart Pirates' deck. The pirates were all yelling as Law was about to warp them all to safety, but the submarine, the poor submarine—
"Now hold on a minute!"
A tall, white bun appeared over the railing.
"Excuse me—oopsy daisy—"
The President of Machinastein flopped onto the deck with zero grace. Her two elegant secretaries swooshed in from behind like hummingbird assassins as Ursa picked herself up and dusted off her robes. Law stopped, mid-shout. Sophie twisted her neck to look at Charlotte Sundae, who had not yet uttered fire and was looking at the new arrival with a pinched sort of expression.
"Sundae," Ursa sighed, tottering over with her cane, "what have I told you about causing trouble in my port?"
The pink pirate oozed down from the railing. "I'm owed five tons o' chocolate from a shop destroyed by these rapscallions," she purred silkily, which was sort of impressive considering she was trying to keep her nose from melting down her face.
Sophie opened her mouth, and a couple pirates made a move to step forward, but President Ursa raised her hand. "On behalf of Machinstein, I'll sell you the chocolate myself."
"Listen, sweet thing, I ain't payin' yer country's ridiculous export taxes. I could get decent black market chocolate at a fifth o' the price yer legal businesses sell 'em at!"
"Ho! Miserliness does not befit a daughter of one of the richest pirates in the world."
Charlotte Sundae giggled, scooping up her left eye ("I feel sick," Sophie heard Shachi mutter) and shoving it back in her dissolving head. "And can ya imagine the money we could've made if ye removed tha' stick up yer ass?"
"I was never going to be one of your mother's pawns," Ursa said tersely.
"Good for me! I woulda melted here."
Ursa scoffed. "You think it's because of the location change that I didn't marry you?"
Um, Sophie thought. Law cleared his throat loudly, looking vaguely uncomfortable this was happening on his ship. He was ignored.
"I loved you!" Sundae cried.
"You wanted to milk me for the all the chocolate I had," Ursa snapped.
"Tha' chocolate dried up years ago," Sundae hissed. Law looked desperately at Charlotte Sundae's warship cannons, as though he wanted them to fire.
Anko opened his mouth.
"Don't," Sophie warned. He closed it.
"Did you come all the way to Paradise just to harass a group of chicklets?" Ursa asked sternly.
"To disrespect an Emperor is a death sentence," the blob of ice-cream snarled, and her steely gaze met Sophie. "All pirates know this. Ye be no pirate; only a fool."
With great style and poise, Sophie hid behind Bepo.
"You're dripping all over my deck," Law said through gritted teeth.
"Sundae, let's discuss a potential trade deal of selling Machinastein chocolate to your mother." Ursa reached into her robes and drew out a small, silver bracelet. "Can you do something about your state?"
Grumbling, a drippy hand snatched the bracelet and clamped it around her other wrist. With several joint-cracking pops, Charlotte Sundae's body reformed—though she looked exhausted all of a sudden. Her makeup was running down her cheeks and crow's feet lined her eyes. Seastone.
Sundae nodded at her crew, who were watching from her warship. A handful of them, in waffle-cone hats and checkered shirts, came swooping down with ropes and landed on the pier, waiting for their captain.
"Let's talk somewhere away from this godforsaken sun," Sundae said, and with one last look of nasty amusement at the Hearts—whom, in all respects, she could've decimated with a snap of her fingers—picked up her skirts and hopped over the railing.
The pirates let out a big exhale.
"Well," Ursa said, looking at the Hearts, "nice meeting you kids. Old girlfriends. You know."
"Yep," Shachi said loudly, puffing out his chest. "We sure do know about women."
"Excuse my friend," Penguin said. "He's always wanted to say that."
Ignoring the immediate uproar that followed, Sophie stepped forward before Ursa could woosh away. "Um," she said abruptly. "Um, the other day, I—"
"We can talk later, dear," the old lady interrupted with a wave of her hand. "I'm quite busy right now."
"Oh—okay."
Sophie reluctantly turned back to the pirates. Law reminded everyone that as soon as they were cleaned up, they'd set off. The pirates trooped down below to gather mops, passing by Kamasu who stuck his bedhead out of the engine room, yawning and asking if something happened.
It took several tries for Penguin to wrench out the knife that Sophie had thrown into the galley door. There was a small, mysterious hole in the door that Bepo peered out of, and they discovered that the chopstick that Hai Xing had thrown had embedded itself into the glass porthole at the other end of the hallway.
The summer sun was bright and Sophie held her hand up, squinting against the sweat glistening off the dozen bare chests. She could roll up her sleeves and put them to shame with her own biceps, but today in the heat, Sophie was content with watching them work, in the shade, with a decent view and a cigarette.
"I'm heading to the University," Sophie said as Law passed by, scrubbing the deck. If this morning was something out of her most bizarre nightmares, this was straight out of a daydream. "Offering an invitation."
"I'll see you later," he said distractedly, looking around the deck. "I need to take care of something first."
Cleaning up the submarine did seem to be pretty annoying work, for their last day on a beautiful paradise island. She would've offered to help, but. Shade. Nice view. The foreboding feeling that getting any closer to these pirates would lead to immense emotional damage further down the road.
"Hey," Sophie said, watching Law. "About Charlotte Sundae, I think she—"
"Has Haki, right?"
She twirled a strand of curly hair. "You're going to meet a lot of pirates like her in the future."
"Worried?" He was now looking at her fully.
Sophie smiled with maximum angelic benevolence. "How will you get by without me?"
"For starters, I'll start charging rent for freeloaders."
And that was her cue to leave.
—
Sophie felt bad for her little grey lab rat. Not because she poisoned him with a chemical agent, and also not because they used to eat rats during Vira when Times Got Tough and so now her stomach always felt a little queasy when she looked at Goliath. She felt bad because he was looking bored.
She cut up little cardboard boxes and put them around his cage, like a maze. "Dying slowly from a chemical agent can be very traumatizing, and the best thing to do is to keep your mind occupied," Sophie told him, taking off her heavy-duty gloves. "When I was sixteen and I threw myself down the stairs to see what would happen—and also because life had no color and food had no flavor and I hadn't slept in four days—I made my best bombs afterwards. It was like, muah." She kissed her fingertips. "Fantastic work."
Goliath flopped over on his belly.
"Though Hippo-sensei did put me on lots of medication," Sophie remembered slowly, "so I'd say that helped the most." She brightened. "But I'm working on medication for you, so don't die on me yet! I'm getting emotionally invested in you, Goliath-san—sort of a bad sign considering the people I get emotionally invested in…"
She paused from scribbling down more data and glanced up. She half-expected to see Law sitting there, twisting a quill between his fingers, his tattooed brown elbows taking up the entire side of the table, sour concentration furrowing his brow. Even when she was buried over a microscope, she'd hear his scuffles and quiet mutters in the background.
And when it got late and they were both tired, he'd tilt his chair back and put his feet on the table, and then she'd snap at him about hygiene and he'd dryly protest that he had a bad back and then some way or another the conversation would move to his horrible penmanship and—
And it was, actually, going to be very difficult doing this alone. Without someone by her side. She'd gotten too used to this, the predictability of friendship…
Well. It would not do to wallow without a cup of coffee. She went outside to the café, and grinned when she saw a woman with neat black locs waving at her with her own coffee in hand.
"Last night was a riot, huh?" Norma greeted as Sophie joined her.
"It was superlative," she agreed, scooting over to Norma's good ear. "Top-notch. Thanks for inviting me."
"No worries. Are you feeling better?"
It was a remarkably considerate question from someone who didn't know her very well, and Sophie blinked. Then she grinned. "Well, I'll be fine."
—
Law sloshed through the muddy puddles of the harbor streets, kicking up dirt in his wake. He walked through alleys, passing by old men in loincloths and long braided hair, smoking like chimneys, and brown barefoot kids running past him with their dogs.
He stopped before a small, shithole-ish tavern by the docks, studying the crusty painted sign. Aloe View, with a small heart over the i. Here was the tavern he overheard in President Ursa and Sophie's conversation. Law went inside, but his mark was nowhere to be found. The manager at the desk pointed him to a gambling house nearby.
He stepped into the dimly-lit, cramped parlor. The air was thick and humid, cloying with the smoke of burning candelilla flowers, lit like incense.
"No weapons inside," the large, tattooed bouncer rumbled.
He set his nodachi against the wall with the other assemblage of weaponry. Beers clattered, cards shuffled, money exchanged hands. Lightly tugging on his shirt that was already feeling uncomfortably warm, Law scanned the room and found his target.
At one of the small board game tables in the back sat Sophie's teacher, counting his recent winnings and surrounded by several empty beer glasses.
Law waited until a glum-looking old man stuffed his remaining stella in his pocket and left the table, and then swung his legs into the just-vacated chair. He watched as Hippo jerked up and then rearranged his dirt-smudged glasses.
"Is Sophie okay?" was the first thing out of his mouth.
"I come out all this way to see you, and you just ask about your student?" Law sarcastically extended his hands. "What are we, doc?"
Hippo looked at him for a long moment, then sighed into his fifth mug of beer. "If you're here to lecture me, I'd rather not hear it. Sophie already did a fine job."
Law leaned back on the chair, one arm thrown over the back. "And if I'm here to kill you?"
"Don't be a cliché, pirate."
"Says the father estranged from his kid. Now there's a tired trope."
"If you're trying to pester me to death, it's working." He could've been a handsome young man, once. He had a soldier's face; a stern mouth, a tense, grizzled jaw, and quick dark eyes that marked Law's actions, despite the generous amounts of alcohol he had gulped down.
Law looked over the board game, at the little black and white stones in wooden cups. He knew this game.
He slapped down a wad of yellow stella bills and then set a black stone on the board.
"Well?" Law prompted, eyebrows raised.
The older doctor seemed surprised, which then melted into a reluctant exhale. He reached for the white pieces, and for a few minutes there was nothing but the quiet clack-clack of stones being set down.
Then Hippo said, "You're not in trouble with the Big Mom Pirates, are you? If it's trouble for you, it's probably trouble for Sophie."
"You don't have to worry; we're leaving."
"Ah. Well, about time."
Law ignored that. "The Big Mom ship in the harbor must be a painful sight for you."
"My blood pressure has shot through the roof. Civilian life is a fucking nightmare."
"You sound incredibly well-adjusted," Law replied, changing tactics to keep the white pieces from advancing further into his black. "I can see why Sophie nearly gave up freedom for you."
Hippo went quiet, scanning the board. Then he spoke, sanctimonious in his sureness, "I know why you're here, pirate. You're here to ask me for my blessing so she can join your crew."
Law stared at him. "She's going back to Vira. She—told you she's cleaning up your mess. Does it go in one ear and out the other?"
A glimmer of triumph. "So she's not a pirate."
Law's scowl dropped, and he looked at him flatly.
"She's still working on a cure? I underestimated her." Hippo grinned—beamed, eyes bright behind his glasses. His face shifted, turned decades younger. "My kid's got hard work and determination," he chuckled, nodding to himself. "Learned it from the best."
Law could see why Sophie would have a difficult time letting go of him. He also once had a father who studied medicine. Hippo wasn't anything like him, but the fact that this similarity existed in the first place was slightly unnerving.
"Trying to get a foothold in my corner?" Hippo rubbed his chin. "You're harder to read than I thought. Still, Sophie's better than you. You're trying to keep all your soldiers from being surrounded by my pieces. You're protecting them. She knows when to sacrifice."
"Learned it from the best, I'm sure," Law murmured.
Hippo rubbed a white stone between his fingers, searching the board. "Growing up in the Marines," he said pensively, quietly, "is a—a little bit like hell. Our mantra is to beat discipline and respect into our kids early. We take any violent young we can get our hands on and teach them anger. So they learn how to use that anger on our enemies. We must not be timid, because our comrades wait for us."
"We must advance towards the blue horizon," Law muttered, examining the remaining spaces.
"Oh? You know that song?"
In another life, another marine could've been sitting on the chair opposite, a cigarette between his lips, smiling.
"Sophie," he said, shrugging. Hippo took it as an explanation.
"Hm." He looked deep in thought. "She's really doing it? Going back to Vira? That kid, who's never loved anything but chemistry?"
Law considered leaving. And then he thought, fuck it to hell, and said, "You're a shit teacher."
Hippo blinked. "Well," he said, and took a breath like he was about to go on a forty-five-minute diatribe on all the ways he was forced to be a shit dad, on tragedies he had suffered, and how much worse he'd had it as a kid and how grateful everyone else should be for it. He concluded, "Yes."
"Is that it? That's all you have to say, fully aware that you're sitting on your ass, stewing in your own self-pity, and being a waste of a trained doctor?" Law thought about how brightly she once talked about him, how important this father figure was to her, the magnificent marine hero. How he ended up just being another man in a dirty gambling parlor, just another deadbeat dad.
"I never wanted this, Trafalgar."
For a split-second Law wondered what Cora-san would say to Hippo, marine to marine. But then, he supposed it didn't matter. There were fairytales about always getting what you wanted, without ever suffering consequences. And then there was life, this life, and the choices you make in it; the choices you die for.
And what was he doing here? This wasn't his problem. He had meddled enough with Sophie's personal life, anyway. Yeah, she was going to be fine without Hippo. One hundred percent.
"I've had enough." Law slid over his pile of crumpled bills. "It's your win. If you're not a fool, you'll buy some real food and lay off the alcohol."
He stood up, the chair scratching across the floor.
"And for the record, Sophie loved you so much that she refused a seat on my crew because she wanted to live a normal life with you. You were her last opportunity to live far away from the ocean. If there was anyone who could've convinced her to settle for mediocrity, it would've been you."
The marine looked up, finally. "What exactly did you come here for?"
"I came here," Law said, "to thank you."
It was lucky for Hippo, he thought later, stepping out into sunlight with Kikoku on his shoulder, that he never had the chance to meet Miss Manette Nellie. If she was in Law's place, there was no chance Hippo would've survived her wrath.
—
Sophie waited on a bench and tapped her feet together. Sometimes she'd wave a hand at the staffers passing by, but they always brushed her aside with the President is still busy, wait a while. So Sophie waited on a bench and leaned back on her wrists and entertained herself by imagining what sort of mischief the Heart Pirates could find themselves in, if they were waiting here with her.
The President's golden atrium was teeming with lush plants, and an enormous bronze clock hung between the greenery. Every so often tiny automaton birds would come out of the clock and sing, powered by the pond and the waterwheel beneath. That would be Bepo's first stop—and the rest would follow suit. Law would find a comfortable spot in the shade to make snarky comments from. There would be immense water damage. Sophie would undoubtedly be forced to be the voice of haughty disdain at their lack of propriety, and she bit her lip to keep from grinning.
Somewhere, a door banged open and she jolted up. She scrambled to her feet as President Ursa's hunchback tottered out into the atrium with her army of staffers… and the distinct pink flounce of Charlotte Sundae.
Ursa and the Big Mom pirate were arguing loudly about tariffs and taxes and other things of an infernal nature that surely only hobgoblins knew about, when Sophie scuttled up to them.
"Ah!" Ursa said loudly upon spotting the chemist. "Excuse me, Sundae, this seems to be an urgent matter—"
"Sweet jams and jellies, this word-wobbler again?" Sundae huffed, as Sophie shoved past her.
"H-hello to you, too, you b-bloodthirsty dessert abomination—President-san, I have to talk to you—"
"Come in, dear." Ursa hooked her cane around Sophie's arm and pulled her inside.
"This isn't over, my sweet!" Sundae shouted crossly. "I'm gettin' Mama's chocolate one way or another!"
The guards posted outside the office closed the door, muffling Charlotte Sundae's voice.
Sophie sidestepped the staffers who were all crowding around President Ursa. After a pause, she turned her attention to the wall, examining the framed photographs. There was nothing else to do to keep herself occupied, other than standing in the corner and pretending she was an agave plant.
A faded, wrinkled monochrome photograph with a statuesque figure caught her eye. A woman, with loosely-braided black hair tumbling all over her wide shoulders and a smooth, clean brown face, but for a bit of a shadow of a stubble on her jaw. The woman had Ursa's hooked nose and Ursa's strong chin, and Ursa's wide way of smiling, though she still had all her teeth intact. She could've been her daughter, or granddaughter—
Oh, Sophie thought, hey. Now, she understood Charlotte Sundae. Young Ursa was a total knockout, wolf-whistles and everything.
"Sophie," Ursa said, and she jumped a little. "I'm quite busy today. Did you have something to say to me?"
"Right. Yes." Sophie cleared her throat. "Um. I, um, apologize for losing my temper. Uh, about yesterday, that is."
"Apology accepted, my dear," Ursa said briskly, then waved her cane at her staff. "Let it be known that I am a good—nay, superb—judge of character, Benetnash."
It was one of the secretaries who had seen her implosion yesterday. Sophie shuffled her feet.
"You were in a relationship with a Big Mom pirate, ma'am." Her reply was drier than the desert. "Let's also be clear about that."
"Oh, that was long before I entered office. Back then, I was young and impassioned and filled with vigor."
"You were eighty-years-old, Madam President," said the other, Dubhe.
"Some prefer a riper fruit," Ursa said delicately, and Sophie hastily turned a stifled snort into a loud, hacking cough. "In any case, has absolutely no bearing on our trade talks. Sophie, tell my overdramatic staff that a dalliance with a pirate is nothing to be concerned about."
"…I wouldn't know anything about that."
"Oh? Not even a little?"
Ursa's sweet old lady eyes blinked innocently. Which made it very difficult to glare with vile, murderous intent.
Sophie did her best anyway, and then spoke again, "There's one other thing—"
"Just a moment, dear." Ursa directed her secretaries to various governmental tasks and sent them off to work, and then it was only her and Sophie in the office. "Go on."
"I actually—um, I wanted to let you know that I'm ready to sail to Vira. If you know of any ships in your port going east, I'd be really thankful if you could get me in touch with their captains."
Ursa searched her face. "No one here is asking you to leave. You do know that?"
It's not like she wanted anyone to have to ask. Machinastein had not been built for her. Not for marines, ex or otherwise. Sophie respected that, and she wanted it to stay that way—untouched by the madness of the World Government. She nodded.
"If you're sure, I can spare a small crew and a ship, and I'll lend you our colors—so when the Revolutionary Army sees you, they'll know you sail under Machinastein's flag."
Sophie stood up straight. "Thank you. That's—that's incredibly nice of—President Ursa, you've done so much for me, without asking anything in return."
"I could say the same to you, my dear. There are very few people who would sacrifice their own time and happiness to do something better for the world."
Indeed, that was the reality of her situation. "Right," she laughed quietly, more to herself. "I'm not a pirate at all, am I?"
"It is a good thing you're doing. Remember that."
I'm tired, Sophie thought, remembering all of it.
A flutter of wings came swooping in from the sky. A bird landed on the open windowsill, sticking its leg out where a letter was tied to. It wasn't a toucan or a macaw, the birds used on Machinastein used to deliver letters, but a seagull. A Bad Feeling prickled on the back of Sophie's neck.
The Bad Feeling made evident when Ursa peeled open the letter and announced, "The World Government envoy is requesting access to our waters. They want a meeting tomorrow, first thing in the morning." She chuckled, then started outright laughing. "They heard about Sundae fast, didn't they? Must've tapped the Den Den Mushi waves."
Sophie understood slowly. "If you cut a deal with Big Mom, an Emperor, the World Government will want to make a new deal with your country…?"
"That's right. And they always send their bookkeepers with a Marine Vice Admiral and a fully armed battalion, as though I'd declare war over taxes on papaya."
"Vice Admiral Lettidore once mentioned you were much more difficult to deal with than your predecessors."
"I've eaten raw lemons sweeter than that man," Ursa declared. "I must admit, I did laugh after hearing about his demotion…"
"Ha. Same here." And then Sophie spent the rest of the night clutching a knife and thinking about how Lettidore would kill her if he ever saw her again.
Ursa shuffled to her desk and reached for a piece of parchment to begin writing her reply. "I don't know who they'll be sending this time, but that can be dealt with tomorrow. When the ship is ready, I'll send a toucan to find you."
Sophie nodded and left. But as she stepped out of the office, she turned around.
"What you said before, about turning from lead into gold. What alchemists call chrysopoeia. I want to believe that."
It was, at best, a modest declaration. It lacked all bravado and the raging passion necessary when one proclaims one's resolve, and in the end, it's not like Sophie actually knew how to transmute gold. But it was worth it, to see the small smile spreading across President Ursa's face as the guards closed the door.
—
Done! Sophie patted her hands, looking at her work.
The fact that the laboratory that was originally a basement that was originally a place to shove cardboard boxes filled with fireworks for Machinastein's summer festivals, ended up being incredibly convenient. The microscopes, petri dishes, and cultured cells were all labeled neatly and packed up. (As for the leftover fireworks that had been sitting in those boxes, Sophie had other plans for them.)
She fell onto a chair with a loud sigh. It was done. Everything was ready to be shipped off with her to Vira.
"Look at that, Goliath-kun," Sophie remarked, waving at the spotless emptiness. "The cleaning witch strikes again!"
It felt so long ago when she had kicked Bepo and Law out of the dirty, overcrowded basement to clean it. Now, quills and inkwells stored away, blank parchment rolled up and boxed.
This neatness was how a laboratory should operate, anyway; not at all like when the Hearts were crowding around the table, their voices loud and laughing, their feet catching against the table legs and their hurried apologies, arms brushing against her shoulders, calling her name to get her attention for a stupid joke…
Two knocks came from the door. She sat upright as Law entered. He started a little, looking around the room.
"I'm all packed up for Vira," Sophie said, waving her hand around. "I figured it was about time to go."
He nodded with a brisk jerk of his head. "Right. Good."
"Also, I have something for you."
Law walked over as Sophie hoisted the backpack that was lying at her feet.
"This," she threw down a thud of thick, heavy folders on the table, her children that she worked on for years and years, "is a pretty diverse selection of what I made for G-13. There are some island-cratering bombs in there. A couple of poisons. A few rejected ideas, like rainbow glitter grenades. I thought you'd be interested in the," she wiggled her fingers, channeling imaginary sparkles, "diverse ways G-13 killed people."
Law weighed the stack. "Fifty million beli."
"Around ten million, actually." Her other babies were stashed away, for obvious reasons. "I figured that's a decent price for your help."
He skimmed through a couple pages, before nodding. "Cool."
"These are yours. You may do as you like with them. I don't know what price they'd fetch on the black market, but I think selling them to some evil dictators might net you the largest sum—aah, n-not to say I'd support that, b-but they're yours now, so—"
Law held them back out to her. "As much as chemistry is an underappreciated art form, it's still far easier just cutting someone's head off. These belong to you."
"…Wait. Really?"
"But," he added, "you can buy me a drink."
—
Law traced the condensation dripping down his ice-cold glass of honeyed liquor. Across the tiny table, Sophie was nibbling on a popsicle, her knees drawn up to her chin, sitting like a kid on her chair. They were at a small outdoor bar in the city plaza, and the hum of cicadas buzzed around them.
"So," he said, "what do you know about Haki?"
Sophie caught a piece of popsicle that was about to fall from the stick with her mouth and swallowed. "Super Psychic Fighty Armor. Um. Sometimes, you can use it to withstand Devil Fruit powers. Sometimes, you hear a certain… voice. That's what they all say, anyway."
Right, he'd heard rumors of that before. But they had always just been rumors.
"The voice of… people," she continued, "but… when they're not talking. When they're quiet."
A distant memory in the back of his mind, locked for years, banged against the door.
"But you still hear them," she said thoughtfully. "I think that's how it goes."
In Flevance, he had crawled through a mountain of corpses to escape. He could've sworn the bodies had all been silent, been properly dead when he approached it, but inside—when he crawled through those bodies, feeling stiff fingers brush over his skin, strands of hair tangled under his nails—either there had been people who had not yet suffocated from the crushing weight, or—
Law ripped himself away from the memory and slammed the door shut.
"I see," he forced out. A small crack had formed in his glass of liquor, where he had gripped it. He turned it to the side, so Sophie wouldn't notice.
"It's not very common, this side of the Grand Line." She lowered her voice, glancing at the bar-goers around them. "The marines who do have Haki tend to flock to the New World. Wait… do you think you might have it?"
He wondered if he did. He then wondered how it would be remotely useful. Then came a third thought, like a ghost breathing against his neck: fuck, he didn't want to touch that door again. Law shrugged and took another drink to have a good excuse to not respond.
A great gust of wind blew down the street, sending the tree leaves over their heads shivering.
The breeze lifted Sophie's curls away from her face. She closed her eyes. "Feel that?"
"The wind?" Law asked dryly.
She opened her mouth wide, then inhaled with gusto. It reminded him of a frog. "Tastes like summer."
He leaned back to get a feel for the summer-taste in the air. He could smell the sweet scent of plumeria lingering in the late afternoon, and the bitter musk of hot, humid dirt.
"Oi! There you are!"
Penguin and Shachi edged through the crowded tables until they reached Law's. They were panting, hats askew, as though they'd been running all over.
"We've been tasked with getting the nerds," Shachi announced.
"That can't possibly include me," came Sophie's interjection.
"Of course it does," Shachi said cheerily, dragging her chair until she was forced to stumble to her feet. Penguin cleared his throat at Law, who shot him a Look, but got up and followed anyway.
Grumbling—though perhaps not as loudly as she would've if it was someone other than Shachi holding her wrist—Sophie allowed herself to be dragged with the pirates off to some escapade…
…Which turned out to be a small ballgames court down the road. The other Hearts were already there, tossing a ball between them.
"Alright, lads!" Valross called, bouncing the ball on his wrists like a volleyball. "Now we can start!"
"Cap's on our team!" Penguin called immediately. Anko and Valross cheered, but they were shouted down with protests from Shachi and Manta.
Apparently, Penguin and Shachi had been searching for Law so he could join in on the game. Machinastein's ballgame court was one ten-feet-tall wall, with a bronze ring welded sideways at the top. It was a pretty simple game—so simple that pirates could learn it by watching, and then coerce their crewmates to try it out.
Sophie set down her backpack next to the bench where Hai Xing was reading his latest erotic romance. Next to him, Kamasu was dozing off.
"Not playing?" she asked.
Hai Xing waved his book at her, and Kamasu snored. Which she supposed function as answers.
"Sophie, please, shade," Bepo voiced, sweating on the grass. Sophie obligingly stood over him, shielding his face from the sun as the pirates argued.
"You could go back to the submarine," she pointed out.
"But I don't wanna be alone when everyone's having fun," he wailed.
Ah, Sophie thought. How relatable.
"If you get Cap, we get Hai Xing," Shachi was saying.
"I'm busy." Hai Xing turned a page.
"Come on," he wheedled. "I'll wash all the dishes tonight."
The chef remained unmovable.
Shachi exhaled. "I won't drag you off anywhere to do anything fun for one whole week, if you play on my team."
Hai Xing closed his book with a snap and tossed it on Bepo's stomach. "Let's do this."
"Hell yeah!" Shachi cheered, and then added as an afterthought, "Sophie-chan, you too."
"Gee, I'm feeling the love," she retorted, but made her way over, secretly delighted. She covered Bepo's face with a big tropical palm leaf before she left.
"Keep a close guard on Hai Xing," Anko muttered to Penguin and Valross. "He's stronger than you think."
"And no superpowers allowed," Manta said, crossing his arms.
"Fine with me," Law retorted. "Penguin, you call the shots; I'll go where you point me." He slapped his mechanic's hand in a low-five.
"Wait. We also need a cheerleader," Valross said, looking expectantly at Sophie.
"Great." Sophie grabbed the ball from his hands. "Get off the court and cheer for us."
Valross' face went slack under his bandana, and a chorus of low 'oooooooooo's came from the pirates. Anko, Penguin, Shachi, and even Bepo from the shade, started shouting together, "You fool! That's how she gets you! You fool!"
Biting her lip to keep from grinning, Sophie passed the ball to Shachi, and he threw it in the air, starting the game.
In the ensuing scramble, Law's long legs got there first. His foot connected to the ball with a sharp crack.
And then it was a blur, shooting through the ring with such power that it ricocheted against the wall behind it and flew off into the air. Sophie squinted against the sunset, watching as the ball sailed over the rooftops of the houses down the street. The other pirates were also following the ball's path. A couple of them whistled. There was a distant crash.
They all turned to look at the captain.
Law shrugged. "I wasn't using any powers."
"I'll get it," Valross volunteered, and took off running.
Shachi turned to Manta and threw his hands up. "Cap," Manta said, rubbing his forehead, "please. Just. Please."
"Okay, look." Penguin was trying hard to stifle his laughter. "How about he doesn't use his legs?"
"You can only use your right hand—no, pinky!" Shachi declared. "Anything else is a penalty!"
"If that makes you feel more secure."
Valross tossed the ball back. Sophie bounced it a couple times on her wrists, testing the weight. She used to watch marines kick around balls on the training field from the window of her lab, but never joined in. It was the sort of thing that seemed fun, but she always figured you had to be a certain amount of good to play with others and, well, Sophie wasn't.
"It's heavy," Law cautioned, a mocking glint in his eye. "Don't hurt yourself."
"Heckle heckle heckle!" Anko cackled, heckling.
Penguin sighed. "Guys, please, can we not agitate the rage-prone arsonist?"
"Thank you, Penguin."
"She'll lose her focus and break a nail," he finished with a grin.
Sophie glanced over her shoulder. Hai Xing, Shachi, and Manta nodded grimly, giving her their approval to demolish their crewmates.
Penguin was still laughing with his team. Sophie strode forward and chucked the ball at his head so hard he dropped to the ground and the ball immediately ricocheted back into her face. It slammed against her forehead and bounced into the air, directly to Hai Xing—as Penguin's team tried to bum-rush him, but were held off by Manta—who bumped it to Shachi, who jumped into the air and headbutted the ball, launching it through the ring.
"Shit!" Penguin rubbed his head.
"I planned that!" Sophie shrieked, her forehead bright red.
"I swear, I think your aim's getting better," Hai Xing said, as Manta helped Sophie to her feet.
"Sorry," she began, but Shachi high-fived her before she could finish.
"That's teamwork, motherfuckers!" he shouted in glee. "We're just getting started!"
—
The sun was setting when they decided to call it quits. The tiebreaker shot devolved into a wrestling match over the ball, which Manta accidentally sat on so hard it abruptly deflated. So in a show of great maturity, both teams decided that they won and the other team was a sore loser.
His crew ambled off the court, talking to one another and taking off their shirts to mop up their sweat. Manta went to drag Bepo up, and when the bear began moaning of the heat, the big man simply slung Bepo across his back and dragged him over to the others.
A few civilians passed by on the road; some that Law recognized from the University. Sophie ran over, talking animatedly to them. The med student motioned to Bepo, signing, Is that really a bear?
He's nice, Law replied. Hardly eats humans at all.
She and the girl she holding hands with both blinked at each other, then laughed. They went off with one last wave at Sophie.
She came back, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. "I never did ask, Law-san, where'd you learn how to sign?"
"Long time ago. Once knew a guy who didn't talk much."
Sophie squinted doubtfully, then decided that it was of no interest to her. "I brought presents for everyone," she announced, and opened her backpack. The pirates crowded around, peeking at the objects Law remembered had been collecting dust in the corner of her lab. "You need a safe place to set them off. Somewhere away from people, maybe high up."
"Then let's find the tallest building!" Valross cheered, and the others agreed.
Sophie looked elated at their enthusiasm, and she snapped her fingers. "Law-san, remember that place, with the train…? It should be nearby, actually…"
Law knew what she was talking about. He scanned the horizon of gleaming rooftops, and then found it. With a quick Room, the Hearts and Sophie stood on the rooftop garden in the middle of the city. It wasn't a large garden, but it was big enough for them all to fit comfortably on it without the fear of falling off. They hollered, their voices echoing distantly over the busy nighttime streets far below.
Sophie passed around her matchbox. "Be careful, they set off fast—"
The small fireworks went off in their hands and roared into the sky, exploding into sparkles. The pirates yelped and hopped around, waved their hands in the air and blowing on them. Anko held a firework like a bazooka as Penguin lit it from beneath.
"PUBLIC MENACE!" he bellowed, as it shot off into the stars. The other pirates hollered their approval.
"POTASSIUM NITRATE, SULFUR, CARBON!" Sophie screamed. The pirates' hollers were more confused, but still enthusiastic.
Penguin reached around Sophie to grab more fireworks. She punched him in the shoulder. "That's for heckling me." Then she patted him on the head. "And that's so the next time you see me, you can't run away and say I never said goodbye."
"Yeesh, alright." He rubbed his arm, looking faintly embarrassed. "Anyway, look, I'm sorry about the heckling."
"It's okay. I don't mind it that much."
"I keep getting carried away," Penguin admitted, scratching his head with an unlit sparkler. "I mean, I would've said the stupid nail thing to any of the guys. I, uh, I guess I've been treating you like you were one of us."
"I don't mind," Sophie said again. "I never minded, really."
He nudged her shoulder. She nudged back. Then he nudged so hard she stumbled into Shachi. They locked eyes, nodded, and tackled Penguin until he shouted for mercy.
There were shouts on the streets below; people were stopping on the road to look up and coming out of their houses to see the fireworks. The sun was setting, burning red over the distant flat desert and saguaro cacti, and the evening smelled faintly of gunpowder and marigolds. His crew was silhouetted against flaming horizon, talking loudly and jostling each other. They raised their hands to the sky, as though trying to catch the lights in their palms.
Law thought back to Haki, and the voices Sophie had told him about. He knew he'd have to dig deeper to pull that power out of him, if he had it.
But for now, he decided, he was pretty fucking content with sitting back and listening to the clear voices of those around him.
—
As dusk settled in, they sat in the circle and lit the last of the slow-burning sparklers. Sophie stared into the fizzing glow at the end of her stick and came to the quiet realization that she didn't want this to end.
But Saint Kasimir warned her that she'd be on the run forever. Tenryuubito Slayers were given to Impel Down. Then execution, or slavery. It was logical—it was just logical to not be a pirate. She still had G-13's Red Sky problem to take care of anyway, because nobody else was going to. She had to make peace with the fact that she'd be perpetually living in the shadow of the World Government, no matter how much she tried to leave it.
The world was crazy, but there was always sitting around on a warm summer night with people who wanted you to sit next to them. And that was enough for her.
"Hey," Law said, tilting the sparkler in her hand away. "Don't look at the flame for too long, or your eyes will get like Shachi's."
"Oh." Sophie blinked. "Okay."
He turned away and went back to talking to Bepo, and Sophie opened her mouth again. But she couldn't speak; something had lodged in her throat.
She looked up at the stars, abruptly on the verge of tears.
The velvet night was beautiful, and maybe, due to some improbable unforeseen disaster, time on the Grand Line would stop and the night would stretch on forever and ever, and maybe, just maybe… tomorrow would never come.
Sophie closed her eyes and leaned her head on Hai Xing's thin shoulder.
He sighed, and she thought he was going to shake her off, but he just adjusted her slightly and let her be.
—
It was early morning when the messenger toucan found Sophie, delivering her a small note that read simply, The ship to Vira is ready.
Sophie traced President Ursa's neat handwriting with her fingers, then crumpled up the note and threw it over the rooftop. She was sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the air. The harbor sparkled in the distance, and the sound of the train rumbled past, and her insides were as cold as ice.
The pirates were passed out around her, snoring. Law was leaning against Bepo, his hat tilted over his face. She scooted closer and carefully moved his hat away. He looked weirdly stern in his sleep, like he was disciplining his dreams.
"You keep waking me up when you leave," he murmured, eyes still closed. "First on Idyll Island. Now here. Pick someone else this time."
"I'd be too sad if it was someone else."
He looked at her, his eyes like pale gold in the light. "You only ever think of yourself," was his response, and she didn't know what to say to that.
Sophie got up, brushing off her dress, and looked around the sleeping pirates. They all looked so peaceful. She didn't want to wake them. It would take forever and a day to leave, if she did.
Law left his hat and nodachi lying next to Bepo, and motioned at Sophie. "I'll take you home."
"It's not home," Sophie replied, but put on her backpack and took his hand anyway.
His powers were all too convenient, and in a half-second they appeared in the middle of Sophie's bedroom in the Jaguar Temple.
His brown callused hand released hers. "I'll see you off here."
Before he could say another word, before he could turn around and leave, before Sophie really knew what she was doing, she grabbed his shirt. He looked down at her fist. He looked back to her face.
Excuse me what is this, half of her brain was screaming at the other half, which was, at this point, possibly comatose.
It was around ten seconds of Utter Death Silence later when Law spoke. "I don't know what you want if you don't say it out loud."
She felt like she was floating out of her body, and some other Sophie opened her mouth and said, "Don't go."
Well, the remaining cognizant part of her brain said, businesslike, and proceeded to throw itself off a cliff.
"I'm going," Law replied, with barely a pause. (But there was a pause, there was—)
"Then d-don't let me go."
Sophie had lost her mind. She had lost all of it, and it was breaking into a million different sparkles, launched into the air and exploding into fire-bright flowers. Boom, boom, boom.
There was a long pause, until he spoke again.
"Is this the part where I say 'fuck Vira'? 'Fuck all the work we did'? 'Fuck the people who are dying from Red Sky'? 'You didn't cause it. It's never been your responsibility, so fuck everyone'? Is what you want to hear? Am I supposed to steal you away?"
He suggested that before—he wanted her to join his crew before—
"I can't do that anymore." Law gripped her wrist, making her let go of his shirt.
She did slowly, unclenching her fist. Sophie stared at her feet, wanting to disappear.
"Look at me," he said. She couldn't; she jerked her head away, but he tilted her chin and she found herself staring at him, "Could you really say you won't ever regret it, if you come with me? Can you really be certain this won't haunt you?"
But it could be—home, she thought perilously. No—she couldn't think that. She had to smile at Law's not-unkind advice. Smile, Sophie willed herself, smile and agree. Just agree and let them go.
"You'll…" he paused, and his voice grew—clunky, awkward, "find a home for yourself. It's out there, somewhere."
A little knife dug into her heart.
"Screw you," Sophie snapped, slapping his hand away from her.
His face was blank, hand still raised in the air. "…What—"
"I said—" She threw her backpack to the ground and tore through it, searching for her carton of cigarette. She found it, but her matchbox was empty. Pineapples. The fireworks. "—Screw you."
Law didn't move.
"I know I'm selfish," Sophie said heatedly, cigarette between her lips, repeatedly flicking her lighter. But only tiny sparks appeared; right, it was dead, and she knew it was dead, but the anger still rose. "I'm selfish in all the ways that don't matter. And I can't do anything about it." She hurled her useless lighter on the bed, where it landed with a soft fwump. The cigarette in her mouth followed it. "I'm so tired of saying goodbye to all the important things I want."
A flash of emotion crossed Law's face, but then it was gone.
His voice was bitingly sensible: "You'll find more."
"I don't want to find more!" Sophie burst out. Her voice was hot and trembling and shameless, escalating to a shout. "I don't want to do this all over again with another group of people, because then they leave, they leave like how everyone leaves, and I'm just—standing here, pretending to be happy about everything, l-like an id-idiot!"
Law stared at her, his chest rising up and down. For an insane moment, she thought he was going to grab her, and shake her, and hold her so tight she wouldn't have to feel anything anymore.
And then he sat down at the edge of her bed. "Fuck, Sophie."
An awful pressure built up behind her eyes. But she couldn't stop. It was all spilling out; the happiness, the awful happiness, the cutting rage she felt towards G-13 because it had never allowed her to be that happy. It had never allowed her to be a kid and learn what she really, really wanted, and then she felt furious at herself because it took her such a stupidly long time to figure out that the ridiculous notion of being happy was important. It felt important, at least. It felt real. Teeth-numbingly, gut-achingly real.
Law's head was bent, elbows on his knees. She wished she could see his face. But that'd make it so much worse.
"I'm sorry," Sophie whispered, and squeezed her eyes tight.
She wanted to rip out her heart and replace it with something that actually functioned well. She wanted a time machine to go back in time and smack the idiot who deployed Red Sky over Vira's battlefield. She wanted to say to hell with all this, and get up and leave, just like a real pirate—walk into that ocean and never look back, raise her gun in the air and fill the sky with bullets that would never come down.
He didn't say a word. She shouldn't have said anything after all. She should've kept it inside; repress and then die, like a real soldier.
"Go," she urged then, because she had to. "Just go. Please. Please, will you go?"
Law was still quiet as he reached over and picked up the cigarette on her bed. He rolled it around his fingers, and then seemed to come to a decision.
He stood up. "I will. But let's get you a smoke, first."
Sophie stared after him. Law glanced over his shoulder.
"Or are you going to let a pirate like me wander all over this temple unchaperoned?"
She followed him blankly, her head spinning. The corridors outside were empty. Law found the stairs, then strolled down them two at a time and she had to quicken her pace to keep up. They reached the interior balcony area of a grand concourse that was usually crowded government employees during the busiest time of the day.
It was empty below, being so early in the morning, but there were a few staffers walking around on the balcony—some of whom recognized her as Ursa's rather peculiar guest.
Law raised her cigarette. "Does anyone have a match or a lighter?" He jerked his thumb behind him, at Sophie. "For the young miss."
Two of them said they'd go back to their offices and check. Sophie leaned against the balcony, bewildered and slightly winded from running after him.
Law held the cigarette out towards her. When she didn't move, he took her hand and set it in her palm, curling her fingers over it.
They stood together, in silence. Sophie realized she felt a little calmer now, and breathing was easier. Maybe that had something to do with the thought of nicotine, but… she looked at Law, at his self-control, his composure.
"I don't know what to say," she said eventually.
"Goodbye seems a reasonable place to start," he quietly returned.
How pragmatic. How impossible. "You go first."
He looked at her. But the expression on his face now was not one of self-control, or composure. She didn't know what it was, but she thought, fleetingly, that it might've been mirrored on her face as well.
On the hall below, the heavy stone doors creaked open.
A long ray of light fell across the floor and a group of people walked in. Ursa's voice reverberated over the walls.
"I'll remind you that we are one of the few countries prosperous enough to refuse to pay the tribute to your Dragon Perverts."
"I suggest you speak carefully, President Ursa," came another distant voice. The footsteps came closer, and the voice grew louder. "Being an island unaffiliated with the World Government, with pirates all over your harbor, not to mention holding trade talks with a Yonkou."
The woman in the sharp black suit below turned around, her long black ponytail swinging, her black eyes hard as bullets. She stood at the forefront of a small group of men and women, and the only thing that identified themselves as Cipher Pol were their crow-colored suits and hats. And the only thing that differentiated Teresa from the rest of her agents was the long, black-and-grey pinstriped coat she wore over her shoulders.
Sophie's knees buckled; Law had grabbed her and yanked her down to the floor, swearing quietly into her ear. It reminded her of monasteries, of peaches and altars.
"I should call them the Holy Slavers instead," came Ursa's old, wry voice. "You work for the richest rapists in the world. But I imagine it helps not to think about that."
She could feel his heart thudding against her shoulder. "You have to go," Sophie hissed at Law. "What if she's already seen your ship on the harbor?"
"Hold on," he said abruptly, listening intently to the conversation.
There was a brief silence, then Teresa spoke again. "This dialogue has come off the rails. Perhaps we can continue it tomorrow."
Wait, Sophie thought, calming herself down. If she stayed hidden, she was (relatively) safe. After all, Teresa didn't know she blew up G-13; she thought she was dead. She thought she killed Sophie personally.
"Sophie-san, there you are!" one of the staffers called, running up to them. "Here, a new matchbox!"
The unlit cigarette fell from Sophie's hand. Law's fist glowed blue; she grabbed his wrist. "She'll see your Room."
"…What was that?" came a stiff voice from below.
"Just my staff," Ursa said loudly. "Don't mind it."
"Oh, Sophie-san!" called the other staffer, coming into view. "I found a lighter!"
"Are you fucking kidding me," Law said, and then grabbed Sophie and shoved her to her feet.
"I see," said the chief of CP5, echoing across the stone hall. "Then, please excuse this subsequent rudeness."
Like a lightning bolt from the sky, Sophie's personal personification of the Goddess of Bloodthirsty Violence leaped from the hall below and landed before her and Law. The balcony shook, and the ground cratered slightly beneath her feet.
The dark agent rose to her full height, her coat whipping around her like a huge sleek raven unfurling its wings to block the pale grey light, swallowing up Machinastein's summer warmth into a void. There was a new scar or two on her inscrutable face, but otherwise she looked the same as she did on Kunlun, back when Sophie and Law had escaped by a hair's breadth.
"You," Teresa began, stepping forward. "Do you know how much paperwork I had to do because of you?"
to be continued
trivia
machinastein folk song: 'gods in the machina' (a deus ex machina, y'all). like half the reason why i named this island machinastein was so i could build up to the most convenient way to interrupt sophie's goodbye to the hearts: teresa's reappearance.
candelilla flowers: real flowers grown in mexico! i love how beautiful it sounds.
ocean guide (the marine's requiem): law learned a lot about being a marine from rocinante.