They tumble back into their room at Dadan's, still fizzing and shedding sparks.
They're all giddy, can't seem to stop smiling even though their cheeks hurt, and Luffy is chattering a mile a minute and their dæmons are still playing, playfighting, shifting like crazy, and she never wants this to end. Being family changes everything, and it's just a title and not a state change so it shouldn't mean so much, but-
Now she belongs.
Luffy's whining and shoving ineffectually at Ace's arms as he tries to escape a headlock and a noogie (doesn't look at all upset, though, not even trying to keep the grin off his face, a mirror of Ace, and isn't that insane, Ace smiling wildly, unreservedly, like he doesn't care who sees), and she's bumping shoulders with Sabo, keeps trying to trip him up just for the hell of it, just for the joy of contact, of attention given and received in equal measure (he does the same as her, wearing a gap-toothed, blinding grin), and she wants to scream and shout for the joy of it, wants to yell out to her past self-
Something wonderful is coming, her soul sings, sang, and she giggles.
They're tumbling over one another like puppies when they finally make it back (ignoring Dadan's shouts as they tromp up the stairs, bellies already full from a massive fish roasted over a riverbed fire earlier), and she's loathe to separate from them but she needs a bath.
"Get off," she mutters fondly, fully shoving Luffy and his rubbery arms off her shoulders (he yelps, but she's pushed him onto the squishy cushioning of a tussling Ace and Sabo, to their dismay, so it's a planned landing).
"Takin' a bath," she throws over her shoulder at the tangle of limbs, and grins (even though no one can see) at the chorus of replies that it brings her. Her smile doesn't fade as she shuts the bathroom door.
When she exits, later, skin pink and clean and in a burst of hot air, dressed in her comfy sleep clothes (a tank top and shorts, surprise), she has a plan.
The bathroom door opens, gushing steam. She executes phase one.
"Cuddle pile," she says, and behind her she can hear the pattering of feet across the hardwood. She braces for impact.
Luffy slams into her, bowling her over into the blanket pile. She hits the pillows with an oof, squashed flat by eighty pounds of rubbery menace.
Luffy's laughing (shishishi) and rubbing his cheek on her shirt like a cat. His hair, still damp and squeaky-clean, tickles her chin as he nudges under her neck and his arms wind around her, doubling up just to be safe.
She is well and truly cuddled.
Ace and Sabo slink warily into the room proper, heads likewise still damp from the bath and clad in sleep clothes. Both are staring at her, aghast (well, Sabo aghast, Ace something more like disgruntled), and they peer in dismay to where she's taken all their blankets (and several more from the cabinet besides) and a fuckton of pillows. Her intention is clear.
"Cuddle pile?" she makes it a question.
"Cuddle pile!" Luffy's shout is muffled in her shirt, but there's no question mark.
Sabo, still running off the high of earlier and easy-to-convince besides, is smiling wider and wider like he's getting on board, pretty much in. Ace looks like he needs more of a push.
"It'll be way more comfortable," she says, which is actually true, if not at all relevant to her nefarious schemes. "And Luffy will stop scooting closer to you guys every night. More of a plus for me, to be honest. It was starting to get inconvenient-"
Sabo grins and heads on over.
Her eyes widen and her speech cuts off in a moment of ohshit before he bellyflops onto the pillows.
She squeaks, Luffy shouts, exhilarated, and Sabo laughs.
One down.
"Aaaaace," she calls out over the commotion of Luffy and Sabo, arm sticking out from the blanket pile and hand beckoning, even as her face is smushed into pillows and Luffy. (The boy in question is sparing an arm for Sabo, and Sabo is half-wrestling with him, putting up token protest, as Luffy's arm wraps around him- and around and around and around.) As she cuts her gaze over to Ace (with the one eye not pressed into the pillow and the back of Luffy's head), she wiggles her fingers, invitingly. "Ace. Get over here."
He's looking very alarmed.
"Yoink," Luffy giggles, a word that she taught him (why did she do that, again?) as rubbery arms reach out (when did those get free?), stretch, grab, yank.
(Ace is - disputably - the strongest of all of them. If nothing else, he's on par with Sabo, incredibly swift and strong, with reflexes that exceed that of a raging tiger. Point being, he's not slow.
Still, he doesn't dodge Luffy's grab, doesn't protest as he's yanked into the pile of pillow and blanket and Luffy and Sabo and Valentine, smothers his token protest (a groan) in Sabo's shoulder as they try to rearrange their tangle of limbs into a layout that makes sense.)
They settle, warm and pressed close and planning on staying that way. Their dæmons are all cuddled together on Valentine's free side (arrangement going dæmons-Valentine-Luffy-Sabo-Ace), a cat that she assumes must be Ilirya warm against her back - all something fluffy and soft in the dark, she can't quite tell - and Luffy sighs, unutterably, completely happy, and for the first time in a long time, Valentine shares the sentiment completely.
Things go back to normal (the new normal) and days pass and they still cuddle, burning bright and gold. Valentine could get used to this.
Being family changes nothing and everything.
"Hey Val, hey Val! Can you do that thing I like?" Luffy peers up at her beseechingly from where he's pressed to her front, eyes wide, and she sighs.
"Yeah, Luffy." She sighs again, overexaggeratedly, as she starts running her fingers through his unruly windswept-even-with-no-wind hair. Her other arm is occupied, Ace's fluffy head of hair (waves black as pitch, texture so different from her and Luffy's and she's wanted to touch it since she saw it but she stops herself, mind going back to cuddling with Makino and seeing Paloma striped and soft and twitchy-nosed in the dark) laying on her bicep while his back presses to her side (Sabo tangled with Ace), and she's somewhat afraid to move (feels like Ace'll startle like a skittish cat - or tiger, more like - and run off if she moves too abruptly). Somehow, still, she manages to weave her fingers into Luffy's hair without disturbing Ace pillowed on her arm.
"Yessssss…" Luffy practically melts under her hand, going boneless (as only he can go) and sighing happily as she cards her fingers through unruly, coarse-soft locks. Ace and Sabo - peering over, attention caught, a palpable weight - stare like she's murdering Luffy with a straight blade. A corner of her lips quirks up.
"My mom taught me this," Val murmurs.
"Yeah! She used to do it all the time…" Luffy sighs, yawns, pushes into her hand as she pets through the dark strands of his hair. She scritches, just the way she knows he likes it, and a soft smile steals over Luffy's face, eyes closing.
The grins are common, but the softer smiles are rare, so she treasures it, echoing his with a gentle smile of her own.
(She remembers it like this:
Rewind to weeks ago, when things are approaching subzero between her-and-Luffy and Ace-and-Sabo.
Luffy is unquestionably the youngest between the two of them, the brightest, and therefore the most spoiled (by her). She'll admit she contributes to it, but she tries to keep him on track, to treat him as an equal and not baby him. It sort of works.
Point being, amid the myriad complexities that step from that particular issue, there's one thing she'll never have the strength to say no to when it comes to Luffy:
Cuddling.
He drapes himself all over her whenever he damn well pleases, which is pretty often. Unfortunately, that includes when he's covered in mud, blood, or other unpleasant things.
He also attracts stares. From Sabo and Ace, oddly, and it takes her a long while of her observations percolating in the back of her brain 'til she realizes that they don't really… cuddle.
They'll collapse near each other, sometimes lean on one another, but that's as close as they get. Luffy tries to get close and Sabo doesn't mind it, but even he (like Ace) shoves Luffy off if he sticks around too long. Somebody, somewhere, something taught them that they're not supposed to be touched.
Basically, they're wondering why she's tolerating it. And maybe they're a little jealous of her blasé acceptance. Or a lot jealous.
She huffs and pulls Luffy closer, chin resting on his hair. For now, with the way she's growing, he's short enough to tuck under her chin and hug close like a little kid; she'll treasure this, even if Sabo and Ace are anti-cuddle and don't look like they're gonna be changing their minds anytime soon.)
How things have changed.
"You have a mom?" says Ace.
Her hand pauses.
Luffy makes an indistinct and muffled noise of complaint from where his face presses into her chest. She keeps going, slower, thoughtful. "Yeah. Her name is Makino. She lives in Foosha Village - the one with the windmills - at the base of Mt. Colubo."
"Are you… not on good terms?" Sabo's tone is impossible to read. He shifts, over on the other side of Ace, and Ace shifts in response, which makes the pressure of his head press harder against her bicep and his hair tickle against her arm. Neither of them are looking at her anymore, gazes carefully directed away.
Valentine shakes her head, breathing out slow. "No. It's not like that at all. At the beginning, well- you know how we were. Too weak to do anything properly, let alone go through the forest and back to town. And now, I guess we just…" She loses her train of thought, trailing off, focusing on the feel of Luffy's hair (feels like fur more than anything) beneath her fingers.
"We should visit her!" Luffy pipes up. Rescuing her. "Then we could eat some of her yummy cooking and she could read us stories! Not that I don't like yours or anything, but Makino does the funny voices really well. Then Ace and Sabo could meet her too!"
She's trapped in thoughts.
Is it time?
Has she been avoiding this?
"Family's gotta meet family, after all," Luffy finishes, sagely, and her resolve abruptly solidifies.
The next day, they set out across the jungle and down the mountain to Foosha Village.
Valentine is nervous. She's trapped in rebounding thoughts - how she used to be all the time, before Luffy - but Luffy's used to it, knows how to bring her out of it with the power of endless chatter and pure distraction. Ace and Sabo aren't, though - used to it, that is - and they look at her like she's a wild thing, strange in her grim silence and her lack of complete and utter confidence as Luffy keeps her grounded, as they run, Ran and Ilirya twittering together in low voices as they fly overhead.
Her confidence is almost always a sham. She doesn't have the strength or will to hide her weakness from them, now.
It's absurdly, accusingly easy to traverse the jungle. Doesn't even take them long - an hour, maybe - and she knows they couldn't do this at the beginning, so why is it so easy now? Is she misremembering things?
(No, she thinks. It's just the guilt slinging accusations at her.)
They really couldn't do it in the beginning, she knows. But a while after that - a month in, maybe - they could've done it. Gone back. Not easily, she knows, and they might've gotten hurt, but they've been capable for a while now. Their strength is insane, after everything. How long has it been? A few months?
They got stolen sometime in August. How many months has it been?
Makino stands with her hands over her mouth.
She's exactly like Valentine remembers. Hair a little longer, maybe, but isn't her own the same way? A different bandana, too, but that isn't at all unusual. Makino wears a different one every day. Her clothes are the same as on the day she and Luffy left. She remembers it clearly, the white blouse with the green vest and the long black skirt, her telling them to be safe, won't you? giving them a hug and a kiss on the forehead before they went out for the day, bright and unexpecting-
"Valentine…?" Makino murmurs low, fragile, like she's afraid. Valentine can barely hear it through the cage of Makino's fingers. She's standing on the path out from the bar - just left, door closing behind her, out to run some errands, maybe, it's late morning - and her eyes are wider than Valentine's ever seen them, big and brown. Her own eyes, staring out at her.
"Mom," Valentine says, clear as anything. Makino gasps.
Paloma leaps.
She's never seen Paloma glide before, truly exercise the second half of her settled form's name. Paloma flies through the air in an impossible arc, the world around them paused and out of focus, and she smacks against Valentine's chest with a squeak- and she's solid, she's really here Makino-
A half second later Valentine is being hugged by her mom and she's crying.
"You're taller," Makino says, laughing wetly, still keeping Valentine in the warm circle of her arms. Valentine doesn't try to move away.
(Ilirya is reuniting with Paloma, matching her, and they're curled up between the pressed together torsos of the both of them, Paloma chattering at Ilirya fiercely, tearfully, and she's never seen a sugar glider cry before but she thinks today is the day that'll change.)
"Only by a couple inches," she whispers. She's stronger now, too, limbs filled out and less scrawny, and she knows that's what Makino means but she can't take her eyes off of Makino's face. Not even to answer her question more fully.
Makino doesn't mention Valentine calling her 'mom' (unsurprised that she knows, almost), and doesn't bother wasting time on unimportant questions. "Is Luffy…?" Makino expression is frantic, looks heartbroken and hopeful, but her question is brisk, almost hurried (like ripping off a bandaid), prepared for a heartrending answer.
"Ah- no, he's completely fine." Relatively speaking. "Hey! You guys can come out now!" She shouts this behind herself, voice still thick, not taking attention off of Makino's face.
That means she can see the joy breaking over Makino's features as Luffy tumbles into view (held back and mouth covered by Ace and Sabo during her and Makino's reunion, no doubt), Ran flitting after him, and then the absolute confusion that follows when Ace and Sabo come into view as well, tentative, emerging from one of the alleys sandwiched between the bushes and the bar, just barely in view. (They're noticeably different than she and Luffy; rougher looking, maybe, odd with Sabo's tophat and missing front tooth and with Ace's freckled anger and perpetual frown, but god, she knows Makino will accept them. She has to.)
She gazes over Makino's shoulder at the bar. Her mind wanders. How long has it been since she's seen it? The sign, the stained wood, this particular view of the windmills and the sea?
It feels like it's been a lifetime.
Makino's arms open even wider as Luffy sprints over, blubbering, and he's squashed it down with Sabo and Ace and the forest and family, but Luffy loves Makino and he missed her. There's room enough in Makino's arms for the both of them, though, which is good because Valentine doesn't want to have to ever make the decision of whether or not to leave her mom for Luffy's sake. Not ever again, at least.
(Ran matches Ilirya and Paloma, dives into the squeaking cuddle pile with a tearful leap.)
"Luffy," Makino breathes, relief painting every inch of her, in how firm she wraps her arms around them and holds them tight, tight, so tightly. "I'm so glad you're both safe-" and the multitudes contained within that 'so' are unutterable, infinite. "I thought you were…"
"We're okay," Luffy promises, bright through his tears, clinging back just as tight. "And we have more family, now! Ace and Sabo! They're my brothers!"
It's the first time Luffy's used the word, pushed him and Ace and Sabo beyond the vague but all-encompassing idea of 'family' promised by the sake cups. Brothers. She can hear Ace's audible, utterly surprised inhale.
"...Brothers?" Makino sounds like she's processing. Understandably. "You too, Vally?"
She hates the nickname - Vally, it sounds like valley, agh - but for Makino and Makino only will she tolerate it. "They're family," she says simply, honestly. "Not brothers. To Luffy, yeah. But not to me."
(She already had a brother, she remembers. But he's gone now. She won't be replacing him.)
Makino seems done with the questions, because she hugs her and Luffy closer to her chest and buries her face in the two of their small shoulders, cheeks pressing against their own, tacky with tears and salt. Valentine makes an effort to hug so tight she'll never have to let go.
The whole story comes out, in fits and starts.
Makino closes the bar. (She was originally going out to the market, but firmly cancels it for another day.) She's carrying Luffy (well, Luffy's arms are looped around Makino and he won't let go) and Valentine is sticking to her like glue, so they shuffle into one of the plush, upholstered booths, a round one cozy in the corner, and the walls and lights and cherry-colored wood are so familiar that she really wants to cry. Ace and Sabo slink into the bar after them (at Makino's insistent invitation, not taking no for an answer) and stay quiet, wary like feral cats that expect to get the boot out as soon as it's realized that they're here, it's them, and they're not welcome here. Halia and Ace's dæmon are hidden; shifted small, no doubt, and it's typical for Sabo but it's so utterly out of character for Ace that she almost sends him a concerned glance.
They manage to get to a seated position, Luffy's on Makino's lap, Valentine pressed against her side and leaning against her under the cradle of her arm, and Ace is the next bravest, because he slots into the booth after Valentine, Sabo hovering indecisive. Sabo - after a long pause - follows after Ace, oddly vulnerable looking with his tophat clutched in his hands (face grim like he's facing down the barrel of a gun), and they both look so afraid, so young.
Ace is the closest, so Valentine reaches for his hand.
Her fingers find his and she clasps around his palm, firm, fumbling, and he reflexively yanks his hand away but she won't let go. Angry, panicked eyes dart to hers, cornered, but whatever he sees in her it stills him.
It's okay, she doesn't say, doesn't need to say aloud. Ace's palm is sweating, nervous, and he is afraid. Afraid of this, of everything, of losing them. Of losing her and Luffy to Makino.
As if that could ever happen. Love is never losing. Love is always more, not less
(She tries to tell him this with her eyes, but imagines some of it must get lost in translation.)
Still, he relaxes by increments. Lets her hold his hand. Her other hand finds Luffy's, and their fingers interlace, practiced, worn comforting and familiar like a well-loved stuffed toy. Valentine leans against Makino, holds Luffy's and Ace's hands (she sees Sabo grabbing for Ace's other under the table, a lump rises in her throat), and closes her eyes.
They tell Makino everything.
As it turns out, if you go out adventuring like usual and you don't return, your mom assumes you've been kidnapped or worse.
Garp didn't tell Makino anything. Either he forgot, or-
Makino's rage burns incandescent. She stifles it down for their sake, but Valentine can see it in her eyes and in Paloma, silent and still, a hound baying for blood.
(And there will be blood, Makino's eyes promise.)
—
—
—
[THREE MONTHS LATER]
It's January.
The leaves are long past turning red, now; at least, in Foosha Village, they are, if not the ever-green boughs of the forest climbing up Mt. Colubo's peaks. It's bitterly cold outside, but far more temperate than the winters Valentine remembers. Hence the long sleeves and pants but no jackets.
It's Saturday and Makino is frying up pancakes for breakfast. She's making blueberry, Sabo's favorite (chocolate chip was last week and strawberry-chocolate-chip the week before that and banana the week before that), and Ace and Sabo and Luffy and Valentine are all perched at the bar, patterned shirts a predictable motif of red and blue and yellow and red again (though darker), mouths watering and chattering about today's hunt to distract themselves from the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Sabo suggests dropping in on Dadan, just for a visit, and Ace says nah, we always do that, Sabo, let's go to the terminal today. Luffy agrees with Sabo on principle, then backpedals when he realizes that would mean visiting Dadan (who's only grown on him so much, though of course, she's grown on him a little) and Valentine, ever pragmatic, suggests visiting Dadan first (briefly) and then making their escape to the terminal so they have an excuse to leave as soon as possible.
Valentine rarely suggests anything, but when she does, it's usually at least a passable idea, so they come to quick agreement. Dadan's, then the Terminal, then maybe a quick dash for lunch (they haven't done one since two weeks ago at the gyoza place, trying to keep a low profile), then perhaps sparring, hunting and roaming the jungle for the afternoon, dropping half the spoils off at Dadan's before they return to the bar for dinner.
All in all, it looks like a promising Saturday. The first batch of pancakes hit the plates, and, after a chorus of thank yous - and boy were those hard for Makino to instill - conversation put on pause, they dig in with all the grace of ravenous beasts.
They pit-stop at their hideout (well, more of a treehouse than a hideout, dizzyingly high in the branches of the tallest treetops they could find), 'cause they want to drop an extra few pillows and blankets off there before they go. Luffy chucked one of the last ones off the canopy during the night (which isn't a moment Valentine would like to repeat, even in the safety of her memories, thanks), another was used (terminally) as a decoy in a bear attack, and the other was- well, simple to say it's well and truly gone, so they need another. (Six pillows is just dissatisfactory. It's only gonna get colder, too, which calls for more fluffy blankets.)
Valentine gazes up at the flag standing proud from the crow's nest, gaze lingering as the others start the long climb down (so nerve-wracking at first, slow going, but second nature now), her eyes tracing over the simple, bold design.
ASLV.
(No offense, Sabo observes, gazing thoughtfully at their rough draft for the flag, sketched in his steady, practical hand, but ASVL just doesn't sound as good- really, not trying to be insulting, Val-
None taken. I agree. It looks better in writing, but when people say it out loud, ASLV sounds better. She carefully enunciates - ay-ess-el-vee - and compared to ASVL, there's really no comparison.
Something inside her didn't want to break that 'ASL' up, was more than content to be a second thought tacked-on at the end.)
From pirate flag to crow's nest to sturdy, long rope ladder (she double and triple checked that one a trillion times, and yes, it's not fraying at all, despite being pilfered from the dumps of the Gray Terminal) the whole hideout is, of course, built like an airborne pirate ship. Sabo designed it, after all, so it's only fitting he'd design it to show off all of their dreams.
There's a barrel for fresh water, a vertigo-inducing deck (she doesn't often go out there), the crowning jewel of a ship's broken-off wheel, and - of course - the highlight of the whole thing, the crows nest.
It boasts a view that can't be replicated. Valentine wishes frequently that the jungle wasn't so dangerous, because she wants to show Makino this, this view of Goa and the clouds and the sea that only birds have seen. The logistics of getting Makino through the jungle and up a tree hundreds of feet high (slick with moss and latticed with vines and utterly unclimbable for normal humans) are, unfortunately, too difficult to allow it. (Much to all of their disappointment.)
Their flag is simple. Black, with a white set of crossbones. Emblazoned over the bones are four letters - ASLV - colored in orange, blue, yellow, and red, in that order.
(Ace wanted red originally, but on a hunch, she offered orange as a substitute. To her surprise, he declared he liked it better immediately and told her, flippant, that she could take red if she liked, orange was his favorite now. As he turned away, dismissive, she simply shook her head in confusion, baffled. Boys.)
Makino sewed it for them.
"OI! VALENTINE!" Ace is shouting up at her, and- are they all already at the bottom? Shit.
She hurries down the tree. While she's at it, she tries not to slip and break all her bones, wishing for gloves to warm her chilled fingers but knowing they'd fuck her grip to hell.
Her hand tightens on the vine, and - still lost in thought - she makes her way down with the ease and surety of long practice.
Ace has long transcended his skittish phase and is now firmly entrenched in the 'crushing on Makino' phase. It's slightly weird because, hey, that's her mom. But, to be fair - and she thinks this smugly to herself - Makino is the kindest, loveliest, gentlest person on the whole island. She totally understands Ace being dazzled and amazed by her majesty.
Doesn't mean she won't give him shit for it, though.
"Hey." She nudges Sabo with an elbow, speaks (at normal volume) out of the corner of her mouth like she's trying to keep a secret, easily avoiding the trash strewn in her path without sparing it a glance. "Did you see Ace's face when Makino gave him the last pancake?"
Not particularly inspired, but it'll do. Sabo, thankfully, catches on immediately, stepping into a dance they've long since perfected. "Oh, yeah," Sabo says, musing, with a (false) air of dawning realization. "Was he turning red, too? Or was that just my imagi-"
"Shut the hell up, you guys," Ace grumbles, smartly rapping the ground with his pipe where she and Sabo had been standing mere seconds before (they easily dart out of the way of his halfhearted blow, slow as molasses in comparison to his usual). Luffy's giggling in the background, shishishishi, and it's egging them on even further. She and Sabo share a brief look - shall you go first, or shall I? - and she sees the eagerness in Sabo's expression so she nods, acquiesces, lets him have the floor.
She loves Saturdays.
They've truly, officially moved out of Dadan's.
Her and Luffy's old beds are shoved together in the back room of the bar, and the timing of their cuddle-puddle ways was extremely fortuitous, because there's not enough room (or beds) for all of them to have their own space in the bar. That, and Makino (and Valentine, silently) know the risks of being seen too often in the village.
Hence them living there part-time.
They've been there more often than not in the past three months (Makino doesn't like to go too long without seeing her or Luffy, understandably), but their hideout is a perfectly livable substitute. The winter is only going to get colder, and as weather intensifies, they'll probably be spending more nights in the back room of the bar (it's much easier to keep warm, there), but she has no doubt that as spring and summer come (and Makino's overprotective hovering wanes) they'll spend more of their nights in their hideout: closer to the forest, closer to the terminal, and closer to all the training and beasts and riches they can reach.
Their improvised queen sized (well, two doubles shoved together) bed is more of a nest than anything else. It has a plethora of pillows and blankets, and though it's always cozy, it's almost never made, blankets in utter disarray. Makino's long since given up on having them make it every morning.
(After two months of sleeping on blanketed floors - and yeah, two months, that's how long they were gone - a bed almost feels too comfortable. She can tell that Ace and Sabo feel the same way.
Shame. They'll have to get used to it.)
Makino teaches Sabo and Ace (and Luffy, to an extent, reminding him) how to be normal, tidy children. With manners.
Maybe a quarter of it sinks in.
They've been half-domesticated, those two, and it still brings a wide smile to her face to see them crowded around the bar and jabbering away, waiting for lunch like it's something they can take for granted. They can, and that's wonderful, because all kids should be able to do that, to know they'll get a meal for sure. God knows Valentine's missed it. (Kid or not, she thinks.)
(Valentine is, of course, exempt from this manners training, because back when Makino taught her, she took to manners like a duck to water, like this was her second go at it and all her lessons were a simple reminder. Ace and Sabo - who have no such luck - give her dirty looks over the edge of the bar as Makino clearly and concisely explains the nuances of honorifics and forms of address.
Ace is reluctant at first, but she can see the tiny starburst of interest rising in his eyes, day after day, and knows that her tales of Shanks - the fantastically powerful pirate who gave Luffy his strawhat - are sparking an idea in him, a debt. She doesn't make any efforts to discourage it.
Sabo, similarly to her, takes easier to manners than Ace, but he seems oddly determined to discard all but the most necessary. In a way, she understands.
Luffy, just... well, she knows some of it must be sinking in, but god only knows what parts. She hopes it's the important bits.)
They'll never be really tamed - at least not at this age - and Ace's eyes still get a little squirrely when Makino pulls him into a hug (she and Sabo and Luffy smother their giggles) but they've got another home. And Makino doesn't- she's been worried, thought they were dead, but she's really not a hover-mom, and it shows. Weeks pass and she doesn't try to tie them down and keep them from running off, getting stronger. Makino knows they can handle themselves (at least she does now, after she's seen her and Ace and Sabo knock down massive trees in several blows for firewood), and she doesn't try to stop them from doing that. She just hugs them a little tighter, holds them close a little longer, and tells them to always come home.
They do.
(It's vaguely horrifying how good of a mom Makino is. Valentine makes an effort not to look a gift horse in the mouth, wonders why Makino didn't have a kid Before, wonders if maybe she did, but something happened-)
She tries not to take it for granted.
Valentine gets her whole wardrobe back. She gets dresses.
She finds they're much more inconvenient to run around in than how she remembers them (and, after two months straight of wearing shorts and a tank top, she's become extremely partial to the style). They are, however, very good for keeping cover at dine'n'dashes, so she pilfers a few to keep at the hideout.
(She considers wearing her necklace - still safe and sound in Makino's jewelry box - but she isn't nearly strong enough, yet. If she's still alive by fourteen - which she well should be - she'll start wearing it then.)
Aside from that, she gets all her old shirts and pants and skirts back. She gets variety. It's glorious.
Makino gets new (and repurposed) clothes for Luffy and Sabo and Ace, too (her sewing skills are unreal, she can alter anything to fit, so even if some of it's secondhand, it's never ill-fitting). Ace already had a couple different shirts, but Sabo never had anything except his blue and white clothes (is that what he ran away in?) and he's adorably excited to get some new stuff, though he wears his old outfit frequently, still. Luffy, too, is happy to get all his shirts and shorts back, and Makino does their laundry now, which is a plus (Valentine got her and Luffy through well enough by handwashing their clothes, but it's infinitely more convenient to let Makino throw it all in the washing machine and let it hang out to dry). Another plus is that here in the village, nothing tries to steal their drying clothes straight off the line (she can still remember the strangled shriek that built in her throat when she glanced out their window at Dadan's and spotted a monkey running around with Luffy's only shirt stuffed over its head like a hat). Everything here is tamer, easier, and while she doesn't want to go soft, she doesn't think there's much risk of that when they venture out into the jungle every day.
(And even if she did, would it be such a crime?)
Turns out, her birthday passed while she and Luffy were gone. They have a very belated small party.
(They have her favorite foods for dinner, and a chocolate cake frosted with tangy sweet icing for dessert.
Makino promises to teach her anything she wants as a gift, so she requests ways to style my hair and adds cooking? as a hopeful afterthought. Makino laughs and promises she can do both, teases that she'll have to bank a present from a future birthday. They shake on it.
Luffy's present is a fistful of wildflowers and a smooth, polished riverstone the color of burnished copper. Sabo gives her a dazzling golden locket no larger than an acorn - pilfered from the terminal, no doubt - shaped like a heart (you like hearts, right? and how did Sabo even remember that, she mentioned it maybe once), a clasp holding it shut. (Perfect place to put a small picture, she thinks, clutching the fine chain.) And Ace gives her a new pipe, much better than her old one, with the grip wrapped in tigerskin and the rough edges carefully buffed away, shiny polished and ready to be used.
She loves them all in different ways, a little more every day.)
Luffy's and Sabo's birthdays are (fittingly) in the summer months, so they don't have to worry about that for a while, but-
Ace doesn't even have a birthday. Makino is appalled.
She swiftly gives him one. January first (not extremely original, but easy to remember, at least), and she gets a cake from the bakery and decorates the bar and everything. It does a hell of a lot to warm Ace up to Makino, and Valentine promises that skies and seas as her witness, she's going to make sure Ace has a hundred more birthdays to look forward to, after this one.
Weeks pass.
Luffy gets his first kill, and its slightly earlier than she thinks it was/should be.
"You did it, Luffy." Ace smiles (not a grin, not a frown, one of those inbetweens he's been discovering that come faster and easier these days), and Sabo gives his own congratulations as Luffy cheers, fistpumps and jumps up and down and generally loses it (as, she privately thinks to herself, he deserves).
"Nice job, Luffy." She smiles soft, welcoming, and has the foresight to drop her new (though the balance is becoming familiar, now) pipe to the ground as Luffy flings himself at her, wraps his arms around her shoulders and legs around her waist and clings.
"I did it!" He sounds giddy, breathless, and her smile stretches into a grin as she wraps her arms around him and holds him tight.
"You did," she breathes. "Awesome job, Luffy."
"Aurelia," Ace tells her, voice quiet under the pounding rain.
The weather is getting colder and rainier day by day, and they're taking shelter underneath an overhang, escaping the downpour, and Luffy and Sabo are already asleep (Luffy sprawled across their laps and Sabo snoozing on Ace's shoulder). Ran is a ginger kitten curled up on Luffy's stomach (the nostalgia warms over her, stealing her breath) and Halia, Sabo's dæmon, is a siberian hamster nestled in his cravat.
It's unbearably adorable.
"What?" her stroking of Ilirya (a mouse in her hand) pauses, and he squeaks in affront.
"My dæmon," Ace says, voice low. He's not looking at her. He's looking out into the rain, body still, as if he can keep his pride if he simply doesn't look at her.
She lets him.
"Her name is Aurelia, huh?" she resumes petting her own dæmon, smiles soft and happy as the dæmon in question flutters down to Ace's knee, a monarch with vibrant wings. "This is Ilirya." Her voice is amused.
"I know," he says, because obviously, of course he does, but it relaxes a little of the tense line of his shoulders as she hoped it would. The rain thunders against the roof of their little shelter, and while the air is cold and there's droplets of rain leaking through the ceiling, the symphony of water is indescribably soothing. Something about it makes it feel like there's nobody else in the world. Just the four of them, two awake, two asleep, waiting for the rain to stop.
Valentine lets the silence stretch. It's comfortable, such a far cry from the beginning that it's incomparable. She's glad they got this far.
She knows that being upfront with Ace is best. If she tries to beat around the bush, he'll get defensive or think she's pitying him.
"Why don't you and Aurelia talk?" she says.
Ace doesn't say anything, for a long moment. He gazes out into the downpour, expression distant, sunkissed tan and freckles washed out by the watery, dim light. He won't get pale in the winter, his skin is too naturally dark for that, but the lack of sun is starting to wash him out-
"She can't talk," he says.
She breathes in. Out. "Can't?"
"Or won't, maybe. I think she did when I was younger…" he trails off, sighs, runs his free hand through his tangled and rain-dark waves of hair. He's only eleven, but in that moment, he looks older, more tired. "She stopped."
"You know why?"
"I don't really want to talk about it." He doesn't sound hostile, just exhausted and defensive. Even this - him letting her see his sad frown and the defeated, questioning caste of his features - is something she shouldn't take for granted, so she lets it go.
"Okay," she says. "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time me and Luffy busted up one of the villager's prize watermelons?"
He takes the distraction gratefully, and they talk until the rain stops.
Garp comes back in early February.
Makino is angry.
(Understatement, she thinks, awed, and you wouldn't imagine that a St. Bernard could look ashamed before the minuscule speck of a raging sugar glider, but Garp's dæmon looks disquieted, ever-wagging tail still and limp, hanging low.)
Makino yells at him - yells, Makino - and he simply stands there, expression baffled at first but cresting into dawning realization and then acceptance as she keeps going.
"Ah," he interrupts, cutting Makino off - big mistake, she privately thinks - "sorry. I left you a note. On your doorstep. The wind might have blown it away."
"The wind?" Makino explodes, and never before has Valentine been so glad Makino's never gotten truly, properly angry at her like this. From Luffy, Ace, and Sabo's expressions as they watch in stunned semi-terror, they're being shown a side of Makino that they hadn't previously known existed and they're rightly terrified.
Joke's on them if they didn't see this coming. They couldn't see the storm in her eyes.
Safe from the rain, she keeps quiet and watches.
To Valentine's extremely mixed feelings, Makino accepts Garp's genuine apology but tells him that negligence will never be an acceptable excuse to her. Ultimately, Makino tells Garp, I'm never going to trust you with my children again if you try to pull a stunt like this.
Garp tries to protest but Makino steamrolls him.
Ace can't live here, at least, Garp tries, and Makino goes supernova.
When the whole thing is over and done with, they settle on living at Makino's part time, spending as little time in the village as humanly possible, and keeping Ace from the attention of the villagers. (For the cost of seeing her mom again, it's a minuscule price to pay. Everyone else, for varying reasons, seems to agree.)
Garp leaves with little fanfare, Luffy peering at him curiously.
(She'll never call Garp Ji-chan like Luffy does, nor even Jiji like Ace, but a tiny sliver of her heart goes out to him. If he hadn't done what he did, after all, she wouldn't have Ace and Sabo. And that doesn't even bear considering.)
"Do you think you might've beaten him down too hard?" she asks Makino seriously, coming up beside her to gaze at Garp's retreating shoulders, impossibly broad but slumped in easy-to-read defeat. Even his dæmon looks forlorn; and she, at least, Valentine has more sympathy for.
"He'll be back," Makino replies, cheeks still flushed and eyes lively, lovely from anger. Makino's frowning slightly, but it softens when she looks down to Valentine pressed against her leg and peering up at her, eyes big and expression guileless. "He'll make it up to us. He's got a good heart, but he can make some stupid mistakes. He needed to hear that what he did was wrong."
"Did you need to yell?"
Ace and Luffy and Sabo are listening. Makino sighs through her nose, closes her eyes. "No, I didn't need to yell. But I was very, very angry. So I did."
Valentine accepts this wisdom, nodding sagely.
They're searching for their next target (victim) at the Gray Terminal, and Luffy's rambling about what he wants for dinner.
"Maybe we should get bear- or ooh, no, alligator! We haven't had gator meat in a while-"
He's rambling on (misleadingly childish and harmless looking, even with his scratched-up pipe in hand) about what to bring back to Makino to cook for their biggest meal of the day (Makino's never gonna have to buy meat at the market again, at least not 'til they leave the island), and Valentine looks on fondly, a small smile playing over her lips. Sabo and Ace - for once, a rarity - stay quiet and do the same, wearing hard-won slight smiles of their own. It's a sunny day, cold but not too dim-
She ducks the first strike at her head and lunges for Luffy.
She's almost fast enough. There's a commotion in her peripheral and she reaches, fingers grasping-
She yanks Luffy out of the way of the knife by his collar but the blade catches the back of her knuckles, slicing a sizzling line of pain sharp into her flesh. (Doesn't feel that bad but it'll hurt later, ohgod, don't think about it-) She pushes him out of the way, hard, shouts run, Luffy! before she swings her pipe at one of her attackers heads.
It lands, and he goes down with a sickening thwack, coyote dæmon howling in pain as Ilirya, snarling, tears at its throat and it bleeds gold. She ducks under another strike and breaks someone's reaching arm with another vicious swing of her pipe, smashes yet another attacker's face in (bone crunching) with the backswing, movement tight and controlled. She whirls to look for Luffy-
A man's got a hold of Luffy's arm and Luffy's shouting, let me go, let me go! and Ran is screaming, under the sharp teeth of a wild dog, and her heart bottoms out into her stomach-
Something catches her hard across the temple and then there's nothing.
—
—
—
She snaps back to consciousness.
Somebody's holding her by the hair and it hurts. Her hair isn't supposed to support her weight this way, even if somebody's holding her by all of it, not just a lock of it like Ace does sometimes when he's teasing (and Ace tugs gently, hard enough to smart if he wants her attention but never enough to hurt, not like this, not like this at all). She struggles, reflexive, a fish dangling off a line, hands going up to her hair to pry the fingers away - stop, stop - but someone laughs and prises her hands from their scrabbling, grabs both her wrists in one meaty palm - effortlessly, she's so sluggish from haziness and pain - and she hears familiar shouts.
Luffy. Ace.
Where's Sabo?
"Sabo's back where he belongs, little girl," someone breathes nastily (hot and moist and it smells gross) in her ear. She must've said that aloud.
"Fuck'ohff," she mumbles, tries frantically to think. No pipe, no Ilirya or Luffy or Ace or Sabo-
She opens her eyes.
Her vision is blurry. Something wet is dripping down her face, dripping off her chin and onto her shirt. Shit, Makino's gonna get mad if she gets it dirty. And her vision is blurry, too.
Ace, she recognizes. Luffy.
They're being restrained by men. Two men, in Ace's case. Ran is being pinned by the wild dog dæmon from before - she's whimpering, sharp teeth pricking at her throat, wolfshape of her own (still just a pup, still just a child) cringing on its belly with tail between her legs - and Aurelia is still, hawk eyes trained on the multiple knives pressed to Ace's throat. She's surrounded by more dæmons, but she isn't moving, because-
"Shame about the blood in your pretty hair, girl. I'll have to wash that out after I'm done with you."
Well, that doesn't sound good.
LET THEM GO, Ace is shouting, struggling futilely, and Luffy is crying. Great, tearing sobs, so much worse than she's seen from him for a while, and what's-
Ilirya is near, she can feel him, but she can't hear him or see him.
"Keep the girl if you want." The voice sounds almost bored, and the speaker is a man with long, greasy looking black hair, a jagged hairline, stubs of teeth (did he grind them down?) and a reinforced glass tank strapped to his front. Within the tank is a lobster; the man's dæmon, no doubt. It's clicking its claws in a frenzy. "As long as the noble already has the boy, he couldn't give less of a damn what happens to the rest of the brats. Actually, come to think of it…" a mean, distantly amused smile steals over his face. "He might pay us extra if we take care of one of them. One less incentive for the brat to break out again, right?"
The rest of the men (his lackeys? The rest of the pirate crew?) laugh in chorus. Valentine can feel Porchemy's - who else could it be? - breathing speed up, hear his dæmon snorting and squealing in excitement.
Fuck.
"I said let them go!" Ace, again, struggling even as the knives at his throat press into his skin- beads of blood well up, roll down-
"Stop, Ace," she rasps, and somehow he hears her. Stills, eyes wild and panicked, expression stricken.
"Take care of Luffy," she whispers, "and-"
Whatever she was going to say next is swallowed by Porchemy's roaring laughter, and she gasps in pain as his grip tightens on her hair. Her face contorts, reflexive, pain and fear so close to the surface, and Luffy is crying again-
The hand releases her wrists to clap over her mouth and she struggles, scrabbling at the back of it fruitlessly, scratching with her nails but Porchemy just laughs and laughs. She hears shouting again, Ace, but it's distant. It's nothing like when she or Sabo or Ace quiet Luffy- this is pressing down hard, doesn't care if it hurts, maybe wants to, and she can't breathe, can't even think, and her vision is going dark as she loses air and it's all fading away even as she hears Ace's scream and feels a shockwave wash over her, it's all-
fad in g -
—
—
—
She regains consciousness very quickly.
She's being carried. She can feel the rocking motion of steps. She's tucked under someone's arm, from the pressure she can feel surrounding her and the unpleasant heat radiating off of the side of whoever she's being pressed to, and the smell of sweat and old, dried blood surrounds her - the same as before - so even with her head spinning, without opening her eyes she can tell it's Porchemy.
She stays limp, keeps her breathing even, and prays to fuck that Porchemy isn't paying attention. He doesn't seem to have noticed her being awake- then again, what good does it even bring her? What can she do?
Her head hurts. She feels a track of tacky, drying blood running from her temple to her chin - that's what the wetness was, earlier - still sluggishly dripping, and she has no pipe, no Luffy or Sabo or Ace.
Bluejam (and that's who it was, wasn't it?) said Sabo was gone. She carefully doesn't let her breathing hitch, stifles the stinging wetness in her eyes.
Ilirya is - if she's correct - hopefully regaining consciousness and doing the same as she, being carried by Porchemy's boar dæmon due to lack of alternative methods of transport (and he has to be near, or the agony of attempted separation would've woken her up). She can't hear any footsteps other than what must be Porchemy's dæmon (just Porchemy's and his dæmon's labored breathing, a second, lighter pattern of steps that must be cloven hooves), so if she's really damn lucky Porchemy is alone.
She doesn't want to risk opening her eyes and losing the advantage of surprise. She keeps them shut - not scrunched, that'd give her away - and breathes in, out. Even. Slow, like she's unconscious.
What are her options?
She doesn't have the urge to puke, doesn't feel dizzy, so she doesn't have a concussion. Probably. She feels tired (unconsciousness is calling to her, the sweet song of the dark, but she fends it off), and she doesn't have any wounds other than whatever's making her head bleed and the stinging slice across her knuckles.
It hurts to be right, but it burns like fire.
No pipe, no backup, but she has Ilirya. She's being carried by Porchemy (proclaimed 'strong' by Ace and Sabo), and there's (hopefully) no lackeys backing him up; just Porchemy, his dæmon, her, and Ilirya. And he's taking her somewhere, but it's not in a hurry, judging by the measured pace of his steps.
Okay.
His grip on her isn't too tight. He thinks she's unconscious, maybe didn't see her smash those fodder pirate's heads in, if she's lucky, and he's underestimating her. He thinks she's helpless, powerless, and weak.
He's not too far off, but it's the margin of error that makes all the difference.
(Take care of yourself, she wanted to say, call out to Ace before he did something stupid. Take care of yourself, too.)
She breathes evenly. I have to time this right.
She can feel the blood drying on her skin, the faint breeze, the chill in the air. She can hear Porchemy breathe, hear his footsteps and his dæmons, but the rest of the world must be avoiding the sight of Porchemy carrying a bleeding nine year old through the Gray Terminal, because she can't hear anyone or anything else. And they must still be in the terminal; she can smell the pervasive scent of rot and decay. It disappears, usually, when she spends more than ten minutes here (the nose can get acclimated to anything), but if she concentrates, she can easily catch the stink of it, of the dead and soon-to-be-dead, refuse and putrid remains.
She'll have to yank herself out of the constraining circle of his arm backwards. That'll have Porchemy waste precious seconds turning around; she'll be out of his view, keep the element of surprise for a little longer.
Okay.
Okay.
She moves.
She wrenches, twists, uses his back and beefy arm as leverage for her hands as she yanks herself out of Porchemy's rapidly tightening grip (ignores his roar of rage), and she does it, gets her torso and head out in a rush of motion, but she feels his grip snag on a lock of her hair- yank- pull it out with a blinding spark of pain- and she hits the ground with a thud, shouts Ilirya, elephant!
Ilirya howls confirmation - over the noise of surprised squealing - as he grows, howl morphing into an indescribable roaring scream.
She's facefirst on the dirty ground and Ilirya's shadow is over her, trumpeting, and she feels the rush of motion displace the air just next to her as he lashes out with a monumental kick.
She can hear Porchemy's dæmon screaming in pain as he roars in rage, and she-
She lurches to her hands and knees, pushes off, hard - ducks the massive hand grasping for her arm - and staggers to her feet, jumps instinctually and unthinkingly to Ilirya's back.
She clears the ten-foot height with ease - maybe too much ease, she pushes off from the ground hard enough that she almost overshoots him, hands frantically grasping at elephantskin - and (Ilirya's still too young to be bigger, he's not even an adult yet) she lands on the rough skin of Ilirya's back, stabilizes.
"Run," she gasps, can't say another word but she hopes to god he gets her meaning, head swimming, and he does.
Ilirya shifts under her and it's vaguely terrifying, because she can hear the faint crackle of bone effortlessly and painlessly reforming and shrinking under her hands as he gets smaller and smaller. Then he's a rhinoceros, still too small but large enough for this-
"Charge him," she manages, and Ilirya does.
She tenses, stabilizes herself on the galloping back of a rhinoceros (Ilirya, just Ilirya) and her eyes open and her gaze flicks up, focuses.
She jumps.
She can fully see, now, the entire hated picture of him (alabaster skin, piglike face, utter bloody surprise in his eyes, and that'll be what kills him, he's not reacting fast enough) and she keeps her jump brutally quick and low, no more time spent in the air than necessary.
He sees her coming but he can't move in time. She hammers her fist into his nose.
She feels the bone crunching underneath her knuckles as she follows through, punching through with the practiced movement of a thousand spars, a thousand fights. She feels blood gush over her knuckles as she punches past him and lands, staggers, head throbbing, hears him hit the ground with a crash behind her.
She hears pained and enraged squealing as Ilirya fends off Porchemy's dæmon, and in her peripheral he's a snarling panther, now, but she drops to her knees and reaches for Porchemy's belt, heart hammering in her ears-
Her hands clasp around his pistol.
She yanks it out of where it's tucked under yellow and black fabric and rears back, staggers to her feet. Points it at his face. Porchemy's eyes flutter open, and he starts to lean up, but she cocks the gun and it sounds like a gunshot.
He freezes.
"Don't move," she says, and her voice is very clear, very calm. All of her panic has condensed, shrunk and consolidated into a speck denser than anything she's ever felt, and it's hiding in a corner of her brain for later. Her fingers tremble.
"You're not gonna shoot me," Porchemy rasps, bravado or confidence, and it's the first time she's heard him truly speak aloud. He's utterly massive, even on the ground, and she's well aware how easily he could overwhelm her. Her finger is on the trigger. If he moves, she shoots.
"I might," she says. She hears a particularly sharp squeal, and then- silence.
She doesn't look away from Porchemy, but her heart rises to her throat in hope. Dangerous. "It's unconscious, Valentine," Ilirya calls out, tone rough and low but overwhelmingly familiar, and she feels a hot wave of relief rash over her but she stems it, stifles it, because this isn't over.
Her eyes are trained on his face so she sees it when rage sparks in Porchemy's eyes. "This ain't the end, girlie. Next time, I'm gonna kill you and your little friends. First, the littlest brat- gonna torture him nice and slow and let you hear all the screams. Then you-" he licks his lips. "Gonna get that pretty hair of yours for my collection. Let that fuckin' angry boy, all full'a rage, hear the both of you scream 'til he's begging for death-"
She pulls the trigger.
She can't even hear the bang over the rushing in her ears, but she hears Ilirya's gasp like it's piped directly into her brain. She can see Porchemy's boar disintegrate into golden dust in her peripheral, see Ilirya rear back in horror from where he had it pinned under a paw, but she can't look away from Porchemy's ruined face.
She doesn't yell, but she feels so, so angry. Burning with it. Insides screaming with it. Her hands shake.
"I will break the whole world," she says, clear as a ringing bell, "to keep them safe. I will do anything. Anything. And do you know what you did?"
Porchemy can't speak because his jaw is a mess of blood and meat and bone, his eyes glazed over and unseeing. She can imagine what his response would be, though.
"It's okay," she says. "You don't need to say anything. I know what you mean."
Then she cocks her stolen pistol again and shoots Porchemy in the skull.
She pukes after.
Pukes until nothing but bile comes up.
—
—
—
Notes:
Ah, did I hint at angst? How about, uh, lots of fluff and then a one-two-punch of agony? :')
(Hey, if you're enjoying this, please feel free to drop a favorite and/or review if you like! It really keeps me going to see people interacting with Valentine and the rest of the changes I'm making to the One Piece world!
And if you've made it this far, thank you for reading and I hope you liked the chapter. ^^)
Also, astute readers might noticed that I've changed the chapter title from 'Pancakes' to simply 'Cake.' I think it has more oomph, don't you?
Additional notes: Hm, formatting is difficult, here, as the creative uses of punctuation I employed on ao3 doesn't... really show up, for whatever reason. I'm using emdashes instead, which look a bit clunkier, but don't mess up the meaning of each break too badly, I think.
Rereading this is funny. I think I gave everyone, oh, two chapters of buildup before everything goes to hell? That's just how life is, unfortunately. Hopefully things will get brighter in the future? Of course, I know the answer to that. But it's not too much of a tease, because the answers for you are in the following chapters!
There is some beauty to amending author's notes long after original chapter publication after all! ;u;