All was tranquil in Moby Dick's dorm - everyone was fast asleep.
An occasional grunt or snore would cut through the serenity. Sometimes a rumpling of sheets indicated that a few members were having a restless night. They were pirates, after all - peace of mind could be hard to achieve when you'd killed. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Izou was amongst them, resting in his hammock, with no such qualms weighing in his mind.
He had occasionally had to kill people, but he never regretted doing so. Those who met the wrong end of his sword had always been despicable people. Izou was young, but he could discern what was right and wrong in the world with ease.
He liked sleeping amongst his crewmates, the soft sounds they made at night lulled him. They helped him feel secure.
Izou was one of the lightest sleepers on board the ship. Any out of the ordinary noise could wake him. It was a habit he had acquired on the streets of Wano when he was still struggling for his life. Letting his guard down would have ended with the few belongings he had left getting stolen.
He opened his eyes when the soft thumping of bare feet on the wooden floor echoed through the cabin. Izou could recognise these footsteps anywhere. And while it was clear that the intruder was making a conscious effort not to wake everyone up, he was doing a poor job of it.
"Izou wake up!" Thatch whispered, shaking the hammock.
"Thatch, do you have any idea what time it is?" Izou groaned drowsily. "The sun isn't even up yet."
"I'm sorry, I know it's early. Can you please come with me? I need your help with something important, please?" he implored.
Izou glanced at the boy in front of him. The younger boy was barely trying to contain his energy to avoid waking the others.
All was tranquil in Moby Dick's dorm - everyone was fast asleep.
An occasional grunt or snore would cut through the serenity. Sometimes a rumpling of sheets indicated that a few members were having a restless night. They were pirates, after all - peace of mind could be hard to achieve when you'd killed. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Izou was amongst them, resting in his hammock, with no such qualms weighing in his mind.
He had occasionally had to kill people, but he never regretted doing so. Those who met the wrong end of his sword had always been despicable people. Izou was young, but he could discern what was right and wrong in the world with ease.
He liked sleeping amongst his crewmates, the soft sounds they made at night lulled him. They helped him feel secure.
Izou was one of the lightest sleepers on board the ship. Any out of the ordinary noise could wake him. It was a habit he had acquired on the streets of Wano when he was still struggling for his life. Letting his guard down would have ended with the few belongings he had left getting stolen.
He opened his eyes when the soft thumping of bare feet on the wooden floor echoed through the cabin. Izou could recognise these footsteps anywhere. And while it was clear that the intruder was making a conscious effort not to wake everyone up. He was doing a poor job of it.
"Izou wake up!" Thatch whispered, shaking the hammock.
"Thatch, do you have any idea what time it is?" Izou groaned drowsily. "The sun isn't even up yet."
"I'm sorry, I know it's early. Can you please come with me? I need your help with something important, please?" he implored.
Izou, now fully awake, glanced at the boy in front of him. He was barely trying to contain his energy to avoid waking the others.
The two of them were early birds they could wake up at any hour without a struggle. Some of their other brothers had more troubles in the morning. Namely, Vista, he looked like a mix between Shakespeare and Cousin Itt before he had his coffee.
"What is it?" Izou chirped.
"Oi kids, get out of here, we're trying to sleep," a grouchy crewmate complained half-asleep.
"Sorry," the boys said in unison. Thatch grabbed Izou's hand and directed him to one of the communal bathrooms.
The light was already on when they reached the room.
"So, what is this all about?"
"Okay," Thatch cleared his throat. "You're pretty good at doing hair, right?" Izou nodded, and the younger boy grabbed a leaflet on the side of the sink. "I found this in town today! Look at this guy, there!" he pointed at a middle-aged man drawn on to the paper. "His hair is super cool, and I want to do the same with mine! I've been trying to shape it like him for a while, but I can't get it to stick," he sulked.
Izou grabbed the pamphlet and looked closer at the funky looking man depicted on it. "You want your hair in a pompadour style?" he asked, genuinely surprised.
"That's what it's called? It's so cool! I'm sure I'll be super handsome with my hair like that!" he declared.
Izou had been on board the Moby Dick for a few months now, Marco and Thatch had become his best friends. He spent his whole days with the two of them, playing, and more often than not getting up to trouble. They got into a lot of arguments, but they always stood up for each other. Since he spent so much time with them, he thought he knew the two of them well. He hadn't seen this sudden interestest for pompadour hairstyles coming at all though.
"Sure," he chuckled. "I'll do it for you today, and I'll explain what I'm doing so that you can do your hair by yourself tomorrow, okay?"
Thatch beamed, "Thank you!"
The aspiring cook was a fast learner, but his hands weren't nimble enough to get his style right on the first go. Izou styled his hair every morning for several weeks before Thatch got the hang of it.
For Izou, it was all worth it the moment the chore boy flashed him the happiest smile he had ever seen.