A/N: I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors. I'm doing everything by myself here, so it's difficult for me to catch all the little spelling blurbs and missing punctuations. Hope the readers can tolerate those and look past them to give some critiques on the story underneath!
Here is the third chapter, taking place 7 years later. Perona is 15.
Unfortunately, the Straw Hats have yet to appear. But they will appear in the next chapter!
Chapter 3: The Ghosts of Loguetown
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—7 years later—
In the dead of night, when all other streets in Loguetown remained lit with seductive red lanturns, the alleyways remained dark and forboding. Except for the faint light of the moon, nothing shone on the forsaken streets.
Two men stumbled through the alley, out of breath and terrified. They looked all around as they continued to run, eyes wide and feet clumsy as they searched for their pursuer in the dark.
"Horohorohorohoro…." a faint laughter reached their ears. Without looking back, they picked up speed and dashed around the corner.
Only to be surrounded by a group of pale white figures, looming up twice as tall as themselves.
" . . . !"
The fact that these figures had quite the goofy faces didn't affect their reaction one bit; they both fell back, screaming bloody murder. The taller one began weeping in fear.
"Did you think you could get away . . .?" the voice continued to echo all around them, seemingly coming from everywhere at the same time. It spooked them as nothing else ever had. Were the ghosts speaking? Were the walls speaking? Was it someone else . . . something else entirely?
One of them began crawling back, blabbering apologies as the white figures loomed closer, larger. Scarier. "P-please! W-we're sorry! We won't ever bother the merchants again, s-so please stop haunting us! Go away!"
"Horohorohoro . . . too late . . ." the voice had gotten closer. Or was it simply getting louder? They felt their ears ringing, and the last thing they saw before they fainted clean away, was a young girl, parasol in hand, stepping out from behind the ghosts as they swooped down onto them.
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"C-captain Smoker! Here are the rest of the reports concerning Loguetown. I've compiled them by earliest date—whoa!"
Smoker frowned as Ensign Tashigi stumbled through the doorway, a pile of files in hand. Miraculously, she managed to keep the papers from falling as she righted herself.
He indicated an empty spot on the coffee table. "Put it there, Ensign. And do another round of patrolling after this. You'll need to get used to our new base, after all. Oh, and make sure to deal with the matter we talked about before—I want a detailed report by evening."
"Yes, sir!" she saluted him and hurried out the door. She tripped once, tumbled, and made it through the doorway before picking herself up again. He looked after her a moment, sighing before turning back to his papers, biting down on the two cigars sticking out of his mouth in thought.
It had only been a few weeks since he and Tashigi had been directed to the Loguetown base, but already they had their first case.
But to his chagrin, it wasn't exactly up his alley of expertise. Hopefully Tashigi's investigation in town today would go well, and it'd be over with soon.
Smoker had different plans for Loguetown, ones that didn't involve some petty local street gangs. What he really meant to do to bring some justice into this town was to implement some rules. Rules, the first of which would be . . .
"No pirates will get into the Grand Line from here. Not while I'm around."
So far, he and Tashigi had devoted their days to getting to know the base, making sure they had access to full resources and information if the time came when it would be needed.
"It'll be busy from now on," he muttered as he looked out the window at one of the most lawless towns in the East Blue.
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-Loguetown marketplace-
The streets of Loguetown bustled with activity. It was past noon, and the hottest and busiest part of the day was in full swing. Merchants shouted out wares and cheap prices to passing customers, and many a traveler paid up to stock up their ships for the oncoming voyage. Locals chatted with friendly vendors as they haggled for prices, and children ran around the streets with bare feet, playing tag and hide-and-seek amid the legs of busy passersby.
A small peddler's cart stood between two stalls, balancing on two rickety wheels and a handlebar that was propped up by a piece of firewood. The cart had a black awning stretched over it, with the words "Princess Brand" sewn neatly onto it in curly pink letters. Under its shade, a group of female customers crowed delightedly over the wares being sold by a young teenage girl, her hair the same shade of light pink as the letters depicting her store name.
"Oh, my!" a lady exclaimed, lifting up a frilly dress made for toddlers. "This is simply adorable! My daughter would just adore this . . . how much is this, young lady?"
Perona, who stood next to the cart in the shade provided by the awning, glanced at the dress and replied, "Hm, so you've got pretty good taste. That Princess mini-dress is worth 30 belis."
The lady gave a surprised look. "My, it seems that your prices have gone down a bit. Didn't you just sell a pair of pants for only 50 beli as well?"
Another woman, this one younger, also held up a cute pink T-shirt and said, "Yes, and you were selling these for 50 beli just a few days ago. Why drop it to 40 now? Not that we're complaining . . ."
The other ladies giggled as they picked out their own choices from Perona's selection of clothing wares.
At this, Perona gave a knowing smile as she tilted her head. The twin pigtails that curled over her shoulders swayed sideways, and the lady couldn't help but notice how well those curls matched the red and pink outfit the girl was wearing. "Hmph. It's none of your business whether or not my prices are lowered. Just be thankful for the discounts!"
Her words held contempt, but aside from a few new customers, all the other women just shook their heads. This girl, she had first started peddling clothes in Loguetown about two weeks ago, yet her tongue remained as sharp as ever.
"Don't worry, dear," one of the ladies whispered to her daughter, who had been quite offended by Perona's condescending words. "She may be like that, but she really is a nice girl."
"She doesn't sound nice," the daughter glared at Perona, who was too busy counting out change for another customer to notice the look. If she had noticed, she would have returned it in kind. "She doesn't look nice, either."
The mother sighed. She couldn't blame her daughter. After all, she and the other ladies here had all had that first impression of Perona as well.
"But dearie, do you remember those bullies who like to extol money from the merchants around here?" the lady began.
"Yeah. Those guys are nothing but trouble. I heard that they tried to go around collecting 1,000 berries each from all the merchants on this street last week, but somebody stopped them. Hah! Serves them right," the girl laughed, recalling the gang of men who would go around intimidating the citizens of Loguetown.
"Why, yes, dear. And the one who stopped them last Monday was none other than Perona over here."
At this, the girl let out an involuntary yell. "Huh? Really!?"
"Hey, you over there," Perona snapped, "be quiet. Don't disturb my customers."
The girl started to glare at the pink-haired one again, before recalling what her mother had told her and turning her glare onto the various hairpins displayed on the lower shelf of the cart instead. Despite herself, she had to admit, these were pretty cute.
She glanced back up at Perona again, wondering, how on earth did that little girl . . . ?
Her eyes traveled from the cute twin tails of Perona's hair, down to the red shawl covering a simple Tee with a big red heart sewn on the front, to the pink miniskirt, black stockings, and boots. Nothing in this tastefully coordinated outfit suggested strength enough to take down fully grown men. And hadn't her mother mentioned once that the girl was only 15 years old or something?
The mother, seeing the perplexity in her daughter's expression, gave a soft laugh. "Looks can be deceiving, you know. Do you see that parasol over there?"
She pointed out a small red parasol that stood leaning against the cart. The daughter immediately recognized it as a Devil Brand product with its signature cute little horns and eyes. "Yeah? What about it?"
"Well, you might not believe it, but Perona used that parasol to knock out every single one of them, one by one. Honestly, it surprised us, too. She doesn't look like she'd be able to lift a pair of chopsticks, let alone be strong enough to knock five people out cold," she chuckled, recalling the way the petite girl had struck each and every one of those bullies by the point of her umbrella.
"You're a disgrace to the respectful world," she had told them as she grinded her heel into the face of one of their fallen comrades. "Just go die, scum. Horohorohorohoro."
It had been pretty scary, no doubt. And the way Perona had looked down her nose at them had probably made those men feel lower than dirt. Perona seemed to have that effect on people—she had a knack for looking down on pretty much anyone who crossed her path.
But the people of Loguetown had been pretty happy with her nonetheless; those thugs had been a problem for quite a while, and though Perona threw insults left and right, they now knew she was a good girl at heart. The blind grandmother who lived by herself at the corner of the street confirmed this as she went around telling everyone that Perona personally escorted the old lady back to her home everyday, as soon as the grandma finished shopping for clothes at Perona's store.
"Her pride may be as big as the Tennryubito," the grandmother had told them fondly, "but I've never been led by a gentler hand than hers."
The mother concluded with a smile at her daughter. "She's quite a character, that Perona."
"Hn," her daughter fingered the hairpin she had picked—a pink strip of ribbon looped around to look like a blooming flower. "Can I buy this, mother?"
"Sure, dear. Perona, how much is this hairpin and this dress?" the woman held up a flowing knee-length dress, with a score of roses decorating the edges.
"it's 90 berries together with the hairpin," Perona replied, "but I'll give it to you for 80 berries, since your daughter desperately needs that hairpin."
"What was that?!" the girl yelled, blushing a deep red.
Looking at the color change on her face, Perona gave a smirk. "I said, you need to start combing your hair. It's an insult to my line of business if customers waste their pretty faces just because they don't take good care of themselves."
"You . . . !" but the indignant retort died on the girl's lips and Perona snatched the pink hairpin out of her hand and personally pinned it into the girl's hair. With her brown bangs out of her face, the other customers could see big blue eyes staring wide-eyed at the vendor in front of her.
A satisfied smile graced Perona's expression. "There, much better. When you get home, brush that crow's nest on your head and you'll be able to walk around with your head held high."
A smiling mother led her blushing daughter away as Perona turned to continue her sales to her other customers, and though nobody saw the little girl smile as she touched the hairpin on her head, many of the neighbors silently wondered whether or not the girl had always been such a cute little thing.
Humming a little to herself, Perona straightened the teddy bear that sat on the edge of her cart, making sure Kumashi had a comfortable seat. "Oh, those socks are 10 berry, 5 berry per pair."
"I'll take 4 pairs, thank you," replied the customer as she fished out her purse.
As Perona took the proffered money, she saw a young woman holding a katana slowly approaching the cart.
A sword?
Perona turned to the blue-haired woman and scanned her up and down.
Blue hair.
Nerdy glasses.
Black jacket, white shirt, black jeans, black shoes.
Her least favorite color combinations. As Perona finished her assessment, the woman asked her breathlessly, "P-pardon me, but might you be the woman that took down the local gang last week?"
Perona put a hand on her hip. "And if I am? What's your business?"
She already knew who this was: Ensign Tashigi, subordinate of the new Marine Captain in town. Nobody else seemed to realize it yet, though. After all, Captain Smoker had just moved in 2 weeks ago, a mere few days after Perona docked at Loguetown. They hadn't done anything significant enough for the townspeople to take notice.
Tashigi pressed on, either oblivious or just ignoring Perona's flippant attitude. "Then, would you mind if I asked you a few questions about the disappearance of the local mafia group recently? Ah, my name is Tashigi, by the way. Capta—I, I mean, some people think that you might have had something to do with 109 notorious gang members disappearing all at once."
"I don't know," Perona dismissed, pausing briefly to help another customer pick out the right sized T-shirt, "but I'm sure you can get plenty of answers if you ask the fishing pole vendor over here."
"Fishing pole vendor?" the Ensign blinked, following the direction of Perona's wave to the stall next door, where a middle-aged man sat smoking a pipe. At being singled out, he leaned forward eagerly and beckoned the woman closer.
Actually, the local mafia's disappearance had been a hot topic for a while now among the merchant folks. Sure, Perona had taken care of some of their gang members, but everyone had fully expected the bigger underground group to retaliate in earnest. However, nothing of the sort happened. In fact, just a few days after Perona made a name for herself, the mafia group's main base at the edge of town had been found completely abandoned, the men who had ruled over the Loguetown's underground society nowhere to be found. After that, naturally, rumors had abounded.
If two or more locals got together these days, that was the only thing they talked about.
"None of us know exactly what happened," the old man whispered in a clearly audible voice, "but the rumor is that those good-for-nothings brought upon themselves the wrath of the ghosts of Loguetown. The spirits couldn't stand to watch their evil deeds anymore, and drove them all out!"
A few of the customers at Perona's store laughed at this, while others gave each other curious glances. Perona flinched a little when the merchant mentioned the ghosts, eyes widening a bit in surprise. Eh? How did they find out?
Another stall-owner, sitting across the street, contributed his piece of gossip. "Ghosts! Bah! Plain ridiculous if you ask me. I say those mafia bastards have gotten a beating from those rival gangs or something. . . and they're just too embarrassed to say they've been beaten, so they make up those ghost stories."
"No, no, It's true! Old Ben says he saw a ghost with his own eyes! All pale and ghost-like," the first merchant testified, completely forgetting about the fishing poles he was supposed to be selling. "And we all know Old Ben ain't never told a lie!"
"Well . . . !" the other man fumbled a bit before yelling back, "then Old Ben's going senile, since I've never seen such ghosts."
Perona shifted her eyes back and forth between them nervously, unconsciously fingering the folded parasol beside her. Well, as long as they continued to dismiss it as rumors . . . she'd had no idea those kinds of rumors were going around. Even with her Negative Hollows always on the watch, she couldn't catch everything that went on around here. A nervous smile took over her expression as she noted the eagerness in the Ensign's face.
No, no, no, Ensign Tashigi, ghosts don't exist. Just ignore that rumor. Marines shouldn't be swayed so easily by local myths, right?
Apparently, Perona's silent incantation had no effect on Tashigi, as the older woman turned to Perona again. "Ghosts? Is it true that these ghosts were the ones who took out those evildoers? I had personally thought it might have been you, Perona-san. You have enough strength to take down their lackies, and it was only a few days after their run-in with you that their entire organization disappeared."
Eh, when you put it like that . . .
Perona put on her best poker face. It ended up looking like the smile of a haughty queen, but the important thing right now was to avoid detection. "So what, I took down a couple of their goons. Anybody could do that if they have a weapon in their hands."
She picked up her parasol and waved it around in demonstration. "And ghosts of Loguetown? How should I know anything about that? I'm not from around here, you know. I'm a traveling merchant. Don't expect me to have something to say about such nonsense rumors the locals are spouting."
"It ain't nonsense, missy!" the merchant next door protested.
Perona turned her head away in a huff. "If you don't have proof, I've got no reason to listen to you. Why don't you concentrate on selling those poles instead of wasting time talking about ghosts, hm?"
And suddenly the chatty merchant remembered that his wife had made him swear to sell at least the minimum quota that day . . . or else, no dinner. He grunted in dismay. Turning back to the streets, he managed to snag a customer willing to buy a 10-foot long pole, proceeding with his transactions with a grateful smile at Perona.
The girl had saved him from a beating from his wife yesterday, too, by reminding him to pay attention to his customers rather than the gossip floating around between the merchants on the street.
He seemed to have forgotten that it had been Perona who dragged him into the conversation in the first place.
"So, anyways," Perona turned back to Tahigi, a scowl on her face, "I don't know what gave you the idea that I'd be able to take down an entire mafia group single-handedly, but let me tell you: you're dead wrong. Why don't you try finding the real reason instead of wasting time looking for answers in bogus rumors?"
Perona inwardly flinched. That had come out sounding meaner than necessary. She hoped the woman would take the hint and stop pestering her with dangerously accurate questions.
Just go. Not like I'll ever admit it really was me that drove them out of here.
Fortunately, her silent pleas worked this time. The Ensign seemed to stare at Perona another moment before giving a bow. "I see. Sorry to bother you, then. I'll be sure to report everything I've heard to Cap—I, I mean—"
"Yes, yes," Perona waved her goodbye. "I'm sure you'll find the truth soon enough. But I wouldn't waste time with such investigations when so many pirates are still in town. I suggest you and your boss focus on the marines' real line of duties rather than waste your energy chasing down some street gangs."
"Eh?" Tashigi's glasses slipped from her eyes and clattered to her floor. She looked surprised that Perona knew who she was. With a tired sigh, Perona picked up the glasses and handed them back to her, adding, "and if you ever need new clothes, come to my cart. I'll be here for the next month or two before I move on, and it'll be my pleasure to coordinate you a new wardrobe."
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly be so imposing on a stranger . . ." blushed the Ensign as she readjusted her glasses.
Perona just scowled. "Who said it's for you? I said it, right? For my pleasure. Honestly, how I managed to talk to you for so long while staring at that ugly outfit of yours is beyond me. You're wasting your pretty face, miss. Give a right touch here and there and you'll be the talk of the marines, you know?"
"Eh . . . eh? Eh!? Um, well . . . !" Tashigi fumbled, at a loss as to what Perona meant. Was it an insult? A compliment? "Well, um, see you around, Perona-san!"
The blush on the woman's face was quite obvious as she took off down the road, but Perona didn't comment. She'd meant it—that woman was a rare jewel. If she ever had the chance, Perona would love to give her a makeover and admire the beauty lying dormant underneath that tomboyish haircut.
With a mischievous grin, Perona went back to her customers, and managed to sell 6 more T-shirts, 2 skirts, and 11 hairpins that day. She also got a few kids—girls, mostly—who paid her a few berries for one of her skillfully crafted stuffed animals. Some of them stared at Kumashi longingly, but averted their eyes underneath Perona's icy stare.
She'd already made it clear: all stuffed animals for sale except Kumashi.
As the shadows grew longer and the evening wore on, Perona prepared to close shop for the night. Taking off the shelves and boxes containing her products, she laid them on the ground carefully before flipping open the lid to her cart. Normally, she stored all her wares inside the cart. It was only when she came out to sell them to customers that she displayed them on top of the cart's lid.
One by one, the boxes lined with shirts, pants, jeans, skirts, jackets, accessories, and stuffed animals disappeared into the cart, leaving only her beloved Kumashi and parasol still out. These belonged to Perona, so no need to put them with the wares. With a snap, she closed and locked the cart lid and stepped into the handlebar, making sure her stuffed bear and umbrella had been securely fastened on the cart.
"Umph!" picking the handlebar up, she began to pull. The other merchants were also preparing to close down; crates of vegetables vanished into storerooms, while certain knickknack shop owners swept their gadgets into a bag for safekeeping. The normally busy street had slowed down considerably, and Perona had no trouble pulling her rather large "Princess Brand" peddler cart down the street towards the harbor.
Sewing had always been her hobby, ever since childhood. Especially since Perona could be quite picky about her choice of clothing and stuffed animals. She absolutely adored cute things with a passion, and her little island simply did not have the wares to satisfy her tastes. So, she had resorted to homemade things despite her father's disapproval at such a commoner's hobby, and Kumashi the bear became her first masterpiece. Even now, though her original bear was lost, her newly made Kumashi remained her absolute favorite friend.
Now, her sewing hobby earned her enough money to live off of. In fact, she allowed herself a bit of pride for her skills. She had managed to make quite a name for her Princess Brand clothing back in Mariejois. Even some Tennryubito had purchased her accessories, boosting the appeal for her wares considerably in the popular market.
Some may ask, if the brand is so popular, why bother leaving the heavenly city?
Perona scowled. There was no way she'd become the exclusive designer for Saint Roswald's daughter, even if it was an invitation by the Tennryubito lord himself. How insulting!
The Roswald family butler had continued to pester her at her store for a while, so much so that Perona got absolutely sick of it. So 1 years ago, she'd declared her intentions to sell her merchandise all over the world. And to do that, she would travel.
Hah, as if some stuck-up rich girl could keep a true designer tied down.
And here she was now, all the way in the East Blue, peddling her handmade clothing to women around the world.
As Loguetown harbor came into view, Perona thought back ruefully on the abounding rumors regarding ghosts around Loguetown.
Indeed, these rumors were at least partially true.
'Though they aren't the spirits of Loguetown,' she laughed to herself, 'they're my Hollows. Horohorohorohoro.'
Years ago, when she escaped from the Bucca pirate ship, she had discovered the power of her Negative Hollows: to make everything they touched "negative." And not only that, but she could also project her own spirit out of her body, looking exactly like her, and could fly around and go through walls just like her other hollows. Her spirit could even change size! She was, in every sense of the word, a ghost-woman. Furthermore, she had also created several different ghost versions for different uses, and only after she managed to grasped the mechanics of her ghost powers did she dare set out from the safe premises of the Celestial city.
As for dealing with the Loguetown mafia, it had been cake.
Strawberry cake.
It had taken only 2 nights to fully eradicate them. By giving a few ghostly warnings to the higher-ups, as well as a major beatdown using her special Explosive Hollows, Perona found herself free to conduct business without annoyances like gangs and such things.
She gave a satisfied smile as her boat came into view. It had a wide deck, specially designed so that the cart could easily be tied on and secured without taking up too much space. With an un-ladylike grunt, she shoved the cart up the plank and onto the vessel. Her hands made quick work of the ropes, and giving it a final lookover to see that it was secure, she went below deck to change her clothes. Having stood out in the sun all day, she felt sweaty and disgusting and desperately needed a fresh outfit.
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Later that evening, Perona had her parasol up and Kumashi hanging out from her specially designed red purse as she strolled through the plaza on her daily walk. The sights to see here were always amazing, and Perona made it a point to come here everyday—even if she was tired—to give herself a break from her work. There stood a limit to sitting in her boat's cabin, sewing shirts and stuffed animals all day. Even if her favorite fluffy, cute stuffed animals filled her cabin from floor to ceiling. Even if it was her sanctuary.
Once in a while, she simply had to get a breath of fresh air.
"Oh?" Perona spotted Ensign Tashigi from earlier. She was following behind a scary-looking man with two cigars in his mouth—cigars which made Perona frown.
'How uncouth.'
She walked a little closer, curious as to what they were talking so seriously about. They seemed to be oblivious to all the fun and games going on around them.
"Captain Smoker, there really may be ghosts that are haunting this town!" the woman said.
"Captain Smoker, hm? Horohorohorohoro, certainly lives up to his name, don't you think, Kumashi?" Perona muttered, looking down at her stuffed bear for agreement. A Captain Smoker who smokes, and has smoke powers, neh?
The bear gave a little nod, agreeing with Perona.
Perona turned back to the pair, curious as to what the captain would think about the whole ghost affair. He had been the one to suspect her in the first place.
She trailed behind them at a distance, reducing her presence into that of a ghost so that they wouldn't notice her following them even with her flashy pink and black outfit. This skill had required quite a bit of practice, but Perona was slowly beginnning to get the hang of giving her physical body ghostly attributes, without necessarily having to project her spirit into a ghost form separate from her body. She could reduce her presence into nothingness and blend in with the crowd or shadows, or even float off the ground like a hollow, though only for a few seconds. Training her ghost powers had become an essential part of her life now, especially after she began to travel on her own.
"Get a grip, Tashigi," growled Smoker, "even if there were ghosts, as long as they're not pirates, I don't care. And if that girl's got nothing to do with the incident, then this case is closed."
"B-but, they might be pirate ghosts! Everyone on the streets is talking about them…"
"Urban legends have nothing to do with the marines, Ensign. Just be sure to be on the lookout for flesh-and-blood pirates. We've got no business dealing with ghosts, you got that? And as for the whole mafia business, it isn't my style to go around trying to find out why things happened after everything's said and done—if it weren't for the Vice-admiral's orders, I would've declared the incident 'case closed' a long time ago instead of letting it drag on this long. Look, Ensign," the captain turned to look back at the woman, "we're here to capture pirates. Nothing more, got it?"
"But…." Smoker gave her a glare, and Tashigi shrunk back. "Aye, Captain…"
"Hmm…hmm," Perona hummed to herself, a bit relieved that the marines wouldn't investigate any further into it. She'd been afraid that they might catch wind that the ghosts were a product of the Horo Horo no mi.
She'd done her research a while ago, back when she still hadn't a clue on where her powers originated from. Picking up on some rumors, she'd found that the description of devil's fruits was awfully similar to her case. Weird-looking fruit. Sudden strange powers. It all fit together. She'd even snuck into the specially restricted library in MarieJois (through her spirit projection) to read up on her own devil's fruit. Since she couldn't directly move objects while in spirit form, she'd had one of her possession Hollows possess the book in question and flip it open to the right page.
It had been a disappointment. It didn't tell her anything she already didn't know. In fact, there was absolutely no detail.
It still peeved her when she thought about it. She'd struggled for weeks to perfect the 'Possession Hollow'—with the power to possess inanimate objects—just so that she could read that book, only to find that she knew more about the Horo Horo no mi than the inventory did.
'Ah, well,' she thought to herself as she gave her parasol a twirl, 'at least I mastered another hollow form.'
She had 3 hollow forms at the moment: Negative Hollows, Explosion Hollows, and Possession Hollows. The ones that she usually had around were the Negative Hollows. These were also the ones she used to scare people with, since they looked the most ghost-like.
In the initial months after her escape from the pirate ship, Perona had survived by relying on her Negative Hollows—if she ran into anybody hostile, she could render them entirely useless in mere seconds, leaving them to wallow in self-pity as she made her getaway. To be honest, she had found quite a bit of satisfaction in bringing various bandit and pirate groups to their knees. They needed to know that they weren't king of the world.
How long they stayed depressed seemed to depend on individual willpower—she'd found that the weakest ones could go for days without snapping out of their morbid emotions. Some simply fainted, overcome by sorrow and unable to bear conscious thought any longer.
The second ghosts she could create, explosion hollows, looked more like little mini versions of her Negatives—very cute balls with faces on them—but their looks could be quite deceiving. They were her primary offensive hollows, capable of exploding like bombs at the snap of her fingers. Sometimes, she fondly referred to them as "Mini Hollows." It wasn't like they cared what they were called, anyways.
The Possession Hollows were her newest ghost form—they looked no different from her Negative Hollows, but they glowed with an eerie blue tinge rather than pure white, and had an entirely different function. Capable of possessing any inanimate object, these proved themselves to be most useful, even if the power was difficult to control.
With such Hollows under her command, she didn't leave any of those Loguetown mafia goons unscathed—she'd projected her negative hollows throughout the city, making sure to scour every nook and cranny for cowards hiding in their little holes. With ghosts that could go anywhere, and the power to see everything they saw, it didn't take long to eradicate the entire group using some well-placed Mini Hollow explosions.
Perona smiled. Really, she wasn't alone anymore. She didn't need human friends, as others seemed to insist, because she already had a whole bunch of friends in tow.
"Isn't that right, Kumashi?" she patted her possessed teddy bear affectionately and earned another nod from him. One of her Blue Possession Hollows had been spirited into Kumashi permanently, and it was her only Hollow developed enough to be able to talk. However, most of the time Perona had Kumashi remain quiet, as a little talking teddy bear would surely freak most people out.
"Though that would be a bit funny, horohoro," she chuckled as she continued to follow the captain and ensign down the main street towards the harbor.
Suddenly, a marine soldier came running up to Smoker, giving a quick salute before shouting, "Sir! Reporting the presence of a pirate crew down at the harbor!"
Oh?
Perona inched forward, curious as to how the newly appointed captain would handle his first job. She wasn't the only one—all the townsfolk slowed down to see what the captain would do.
The Captain simply blew out a breath of smoke and asked, "The name of the pirate crew?"
"It appears to be the Boar Pirates, their captain Kreor wanted for 5 million belis, sir!"
"Gather the marine platoons, soldier. Tashigi, come with me," Smoker indicated as he began running towards the harbor. "We've got pirates to catch!"
"Yes, sir!" chorused the soldier and the ensign before each took off in their respective directions.
"Hmm, hmm," Perona twirled her parasol again. "The marine captain here makes quick decisions, hm? Horohorohoro…wonder if he'll be alright alone?"
Well, technically Tashigi was with him, but Perona didn't really know how good that woman was in a fight. "Hmmm…." Perona looked down at Kumashi and asked, "maybe I should go see how they do? As a temporary citizen of Loguetown, I may want to know how strong our marine protectors are, horohorohoro."
Kumashi looked up at her and gave another subtle nod. Perona gave an approving smile. "That's what I like to hear, Kumashi! Let's go."
When Perona finally arrived at the bay, out of breath, her eyes widened in surprise to see the entire pirate crew already beaten down and captured. One of Smoker's arms had turned into a white pillar of smoke, holding fast to the pirate captain who was struggling in vain and cussing up a storm. Perona pouted a little that she had missed the fight, but judging from the murmurs of the crowd around her, it had been a pretty one-sided one, as none of the pirates had been able to land a single hit on the marines.
Apparently, the new appointees were quite skilled.
"Horohorohorohoro, that should make things more peaceful around here," Perona gave a laugh.
But just as she was about to leave the scene quietly, Ensign Tashigi chose that exact moment to turn her head and spot Perona's unique parasol in the crowd.
"Oh, the vendor from earlier! Hello, miss!" Tashigi waved both arms to her, and instantly the crowd parted to see who the surprisingly skilled swordswoman was talking to. "We've captured the pirates who would have caused trouble in town! This is what we've been assigned to do here as marines, yes? We'll be doing our best from now on!"
Tashigi beamed, and Perona gave a pout. So, the silly girl was still thinking about what she had said earlier?
"Hmph," Perona twirled her parasol as she adressed the Ensign and the Captain, who had turned to look at who his subordinate had addressed. "I suppose the new marine appointees aren't all just talk. Why didn't the marines dispatch you here faster? Such incompetence."
"Eh…eh?" Tashigi's eyes widened, but Smoker's eyes narrowed. He looked Perona up and down, from her curly pink pigtails to her striped red stockings, and decided that kids these days . . . they had a weird sense of fashion.
It took a moment more for Tashigi to process the meaning of Perona's sentence, and as Perona turned sharply away to head for home, the Ensign beamed and bowed to her again. "We'll be sure to protect this town from all the pirates that come this way from now on. You can count on us!"
The crowds cheered their new protectors, and Perona hummed a little tune to herself as she made her way through the streets, leaving the cheering people and the defeated pirates behind her.
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Over the next few weeks, Perona found herself receiving Tashigi as an unexpected customer more times than she cared to count. What did the Ensign want with her, anyway? The woman would hang about Perona's cart, ask her how her sales were going and such, and then leave with an enthusiastic goodbye after getting an earful from her boss through her portable den den mushi.
And that wasn't the worst part. What really got on Perona's nerves . . .
"I can't stand it anymore!" Perona yelled, startling Tashigi in the middle of their conversation. Perona had her hands thrown up in the air in sheer exasperation, and the determined glare she fixed onto Tashigi did not bode well for the female Marine. "You!"
Tashigi jumped as Perona's finger came down to point accusingly at her. "Y-yes?"
"You're rotting my eyes by just standing there. Come here!" Without even waiting for Tashigi to respond, Perona grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her behind the cart into the room where Perona had decided to store her extra wares. She'd made one too many articles of clothing during her stay here, and her boat couldn't hold all of it lest it sank under the weight.
Tashigi, who stumbled in Perona's unexpectedly strong grip, looked up into the room and couldn't help but stare at this strange new world that greeted her eyes.
Frilly dresses, shirts decked with ribbons, jackets with hearts and crowns stitched all over the sleeves, pants and skirts of all kinds, hats and scarves sporting lacy patterns, even elegant gloves with detailed stitching decorations . . . all of Perona's recent works lay displayed all over the room. Stacks of T-shirts sat piled in a corner, and several ball gowns hung from carefully placed hangers. Tashigi, who had been accustomed to the standard marine uniform her whole life, reeled back at the bombardment of pink, red, and purple in her vision. Perona, however, didn't bother to worry over Tashigi's mental shock; she bustled around the room hurriedly, sifting through the material all around her in search of what she was looking for.
"There isn't much here, but I'm sure I had something . . . Ah-ha!" yelled Perona in triumph, holding up a few articles of clothing.
At the sight of the selected pieces, Tashigi blinked in confusion. "What are those for?"
"For you!" Perona flung them into the confused Ensign's face. Almost reflexively, the dark-haired woman caught the offering, before giving an unnaturally high-pitched squeal. "What? For me!?"
"Yes, you! I can't stand the sight of you in that horrid black jacket any longer! The shirt I'll tolerate—the swirly stitches brings out a certain character—but those pants! They're black! And not just any black . . ."
Perona pointed an accusing finger at Tashigi's jeans. "They're plain black! Are you trying to make my eyes rot into my brain? If you want to visit me so badly, I expect you to have the decency to dress tolerably enough not to be an embarrassment. Now change into those clothes so that I can burn those monstrosities you're wearing."
The guilty woman jumped when Perona started shouting, and her hands came up to clutch defensively at her jacket. "But, this is what I've been wearing ever since I became an Ensign . . ."
"There's no rule that Ensigns need to display horrible fashion," snapped Perona. "Take it off before I burn it right off of you."
"Ehh!?"
"Hurry it up!"
The burning fury in Perona's eyes told Tashigi that the girl was quite serious. A little uncertainly, Tashigi looked down at the proffered clothes in her hands, noting that they weren't quite as neon pink as some of the other products in the room. The jacket actually looked a bit similar to the one Tashigi had on currently, except that on the black material, there lay a skillfully sewn pattern of sakura blossoms. It was almost as if the flower petals would blow across the jacket's sleeves and straight out into the world—Tashigi silently marveled at the skill and effort put into the work. The jeans Perona had thrown at her had been dyed a deep purple, completed with a zigzag pattern that travelled from the bell-bottom all the way up to the thigh. A row of silk ribbons adorned the sides from top to bottom.
She realized that Perona had given her clothes suited to her tastes; these weren't nearly as bad as some of the more gaudy designs hanging on the walls.
"They . . . they really are beautiful, but," Tashigi tried to hand them back, "I can't accept these. They wouldn't suit me anyways."
Perona's eye twitched, and she leaned in close to the Ensign's face as she said, "who said I'm giving them to you? It's 60 berries for the jacket and 30 for the pants. I picked out the ones that wouldn't send you running the other way, so be grateful, pay up, and go back to the marine base wearing them proudly. And make sure to advertise to all your co-workers that these are Princess brand clothes. I'll be more than happy to help you hopeless Marines re-design your uniforms."
For a split second, Tashigi blanched as the image of the standard marine uniform covered with pink and red ribbons flitted through her mind. After having seen all the designs Perona was capable of, Tashigi wouldn't put it past the girl to try putting on laces and ribbons on their marine outfits if given the chance.
"But, these clothes," Tashigi said again as her face darkened. "They will only serve to remind everyone at the base that I am a woman."
She looked up at Perona, and a hint of sadness resided in her eyes. "As long as I am a woman, there are things that I can't achieve. I don't want others to look down on me for my gender, but if I wear these clothes . . ."
Tashigi bit her lip, afraid that she had offended Perona when the girl had been kind enough to give her clothes. But this was Tashigi's truth; she refused to allow herself to be thought of as weak simply because she was female.
"So what?" Perona's voice interrupted her thoughts. At the unmistakable irritation in her voice, Tashigi whipped her head up in surprise. "So what if you look more like a woman, huh? You are a woman. Are you going to go around declaring you're a man or something? Let me tell you now, there are things that only women can achieve!"
"Only . . . women?" Tashigi repeated dumbly.
"That's right! Who says that a woman can't have pride? You can be a woman, and you can have pride at the same time. If people think you're weak because you're a woman, then it's your job to show them just how strong a woman can be. If you can't even do that much, quit being a woman right now. It's embarrassing to think I'm the same sex as someone like you!"
Perona paid no heed to the gaping woman as she continued to rant. "I, for one, want to be remembered as a lady who achieved her goal with her own powers. Get it? I'm a lady, not some muscle-brained old man! Who do you think you are to say that I can't achieve certain things just because I'm a lady? It's because I'm a lady that I will go on to amaze the world! You," Perona put a hand on her hip, "what do you want to achieve?"
She leaned in closer, her glare demanding an answer. Jumping a little in surprise, Tashigi answered, "I-I want to take back all the swords . . ."
"Swords?" Perona's nose crinkled.
"Yes, the swords," Tashigi straightened, her voice gaining confidence as she recalled her vision. Her justice. "I want to retrieve all the great swords that are in the hands of evildoers. The swords are crying . . . ! I intend to take them back and give them to their rightful owners! Swordsmen who can use the swords for a just cause!"
"Then who says you need to be a man to do something like that, huh?"
"Eh . . . well . . ."
Perona nodded at her, smirking at the other as Tashigi's face dissolved into uncertainty once more. "If you're a woman, have some pride in the fact that you are! Once you've done all that with the swords or whatever, don't you think it'll be fun to laugh in the face of all those stupid men around you who live in the perpetual misconception that they are better than us? Horohorohorohoro!"
There came a minute of silence, as Tashigi stared at Perona's cocky smile. Then she looked down at the clothes in her hands, and in a barely audible voice, asked, "do you . . . really think I can do it?"
Perona's gave a scowl. This woman, she had a long way to go. "Hmph, how should I know? Whether you can do it or not, it depends on your own strength. Don't try to get answers or help from anybody else. That's how you defend your pride . . . as a woman!"
Tashigi fell silent once more, but as Perona watched her finger the sakura patterns on the jacket, the ghost girl allowed herself to smile in triumph.
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That night, Smoker looked up from his desk at the sound of Tashigi coming into his office and almost dropped the cigars in his mouth. Were those red ribbons running up the Ensign's pants? And a shiny clip the shape of a flower was pinned neatly into the Ensign's blue hair. The jacket looked different, too . . .
"Tashigi."
"Y-yes, captain?" Tashigi fingered the clip in her hair nervously. Perona had stuck it in, calling it a special service, but Tashigi wasn't sure if such a feminine accessory suited her. Her eyes darted back and forth as she instinctively clutched her sword tighter to her chest. The Captain's long silence was starting to bother her.
Smoker gave another puff of his cigar, then said, "it seems you've changed your wardrobe. Just make sure it doesn't interfere with your duties, you got that?"
"Y-yes, sir!" Tashigi saluted. "Reports for today, sir! This morning, around noon, some local men were seen attempting to rob a group of travelers . . ."
"Ensign."
"Yes, sir?"
"That's a nice pin. It'll keep the hair out of your eyes when you fight. Keep up the good work."
She stared at her superior officer for a moment, but the Captain merely puffed another breath of smoke before telling her to resume her report. The hint of a smile the Captain had on his face, though, was enough; Tashigi beamed, her fingers no longer nervous as they toyed with her hairpin. Perhaps she'd go and buy a few more from Perona tomorrow.
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After that, much to Perona's delight, Tashigi also became a regular purchaser of Princess brands. Of course, since Tashigi was a marine officer, Perona often had to remake her designs so that they suited the woman's rough job—Perona prided herself in being able to her designs suit even the pickiest tastes, and Tashigi's tastes (necessities) gave her a new challenge.
She decided to stay a few more months in Logueown, just to produce comfortable pants and shorts specific to Tashigi's request. Most of them emphasized ease of movement: loose jackets or stretchy pants that still retained the feminine charm of heart or rose-shaped stitches.
As orders and requests began to pour in from the marines, Perona gave herself a pat on the back for her decision to advertise through Tashigi's wardrobe. She was receiving an especially big influx of requests from the female marine officers and soldiers stationed far and wide who had heard of Ensign Tashigi's recent popularity among her male subordinates. Some orders came from as far out as the Grand Line—Captain Smoker's childhood friend Captain Hina seemed to take a shine on Perona's designs and made it a point to introduce the Princess brand to all her female marine friends.
Even when Perona left Loguetown to head towards South Blue, the orders kept filing in through her personal den den mushi. She even got a call from Boa Hancock, one of the Shichibukai, who requested comfortable outfits for the entirety of the Kuja pirates. In order to take all their measurements, Perona had to personally take a trip across the Calm Belt to the Amazon Lily Island; she later found out that the only reason Boa Hancock had requested Perona over other clothing brands was because Perona was a woman, whereas most other famous designers happened to be men.
The sudden increase in orders from marines and pirates began to bring on some changes to Perona's designs, whether she liked it or not. The unnecessary frills and ribbons got cut down, and most of her decorations began to consist of simple patterns instead of elaborate laces and such. She still dished out girly dresses or elegant gowns when the rare orders came in, but otherwise, her products came to a point where she could even manage unisex or male outfits without making the male customers look like a pervert or an okama.
Her travels took her all around the four corners of the earth as she worked to spread her plushie dolls and clothing brands to every island possible. The weeks went by quickly as she busied herself with the orders pouring in; before she knew it, she had traveled through all four of the Blues, ending up back in the East Blue three years later.
A/N: I thirst for reviews . . . please read and review, good readers.