Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece
Brown eyes stare through Nao, not quite registering the girl's presence in front of him yet.
She takes this opportunity to truly take in what it is she's seeing—the black mass of feathers, the pink, heart-patterned shirt. It's the first time she's seen someone fully resemble the appearance they had had when she'd first seen them all those years ago, though back then she had only been a child watching characters behind a TV screen.
Once more, she's hit with the realization that all this is real. All the pain and hardships that this clumsy blond would soon have to experience—it's all too real and all too tragic.
Her breath catches in her throat as her train of thought leads her to think about the last time she'd seen the blond on that TV screen. The man was adorned in the same ridiculously gaudy outfit that she's presently seeing, though it had one more, now-missing detail.
Blood.
Panic—and, surprisingly, grief—threatens to overwhelm her all over again, but once more, it's brought to an abrupt stop before it can even begin.
Rosinante had come to his senses.
Scrambling to stand on his own two feet, he finally offers a hard flick on her forhead as a response to the not-so kind words she had used to greet him—get up, idiot.
He frowns, though his eyes betray the mirth he feels towards Nao's crass way of speaking. He snaps his fingers, using his devil fruit to ensure that his new cover as a mute man wouldn't be blown. "You're as pleasant as ever."
She visibly brightens, and—to anyone who doesn't know her well—looks to be completely recovered from the anxiety that had rushed over her only moments ago.
"I'm only this sweet to you," she chirps sarcastically, and Rosinante can't help but laugh at the obviously false claim.
"Where's…" Nao trails off, aware that the man is fully capable of filling in any blanks she leaves.
"Law? Who knows." Rosinante laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I don't think the kid likes me very much."
Nao looks at him as if he were dumb.
"You threw him out a window," she deadpans.
Rosinante defensively waves his hands in front of his face. "He stabbed me."
"Yeah, after you threw him out a window."
"Details, details." Rosinante casually brushes off her comment, but the slight flush of his cheeks reveal the mild embarassment he feels towards his treatment of the little kid. "There's been some updates about the kid. Before we left for Flevance, he found out about—"
"You being able to speak?" Nao finishes, getting nothing more than a slight shake of the head from the blond.
It's arrogant of her to flaunt her knowledge so haphazardly, but she's given few opportunities to show off her seemingly endless wisdom about things she definitely should know fuck-all about. The world could do a lot of things, but stripping her of this minor joy would not be one of them.
"I will never be able to surprise you with any news, will I?"
"Nope."
"Well?"
"Well what?" she asks, confused.
"Is he really, y'know, a—"
"Yes," Nao cuts him off before he can say the little initial. Even with his devil fruit activated, it feels taboo for them to utter such a hated-yet-revered initail out loud.
Rosinante takes a moment to fully comprehend what it is the girl is confirming—Law is important, and it's his duty to keep the kid safe.
"Let's just get out of these streets before someone sees me moving my mouth too much. There's something you need to see."
And with that, the two begin to depart from the now-ragged streets of Flevance.
It's tragic, really—looking at the remnants of what once was known to be a city of great beauty. Beneath all the grime and the suspicious brown smears, one could almost make out what was once probably a dazzlingly pearly-white sidewalk. If Nao takes a longer look at the run-down, boarded up shops surrounding them, she can see how they'd once been the epitome of liveliness and luxury.
"The neighboring kingdom's soldiers really did a number on this street," Rosinante explains grimly.
Nao says nothing in response; no words can fully capture how awful it all is.
The dirt, smeared faces of the town's survivors. The patches of white skin peaking out underneath. The all-too familiar stench of rotting flesh and congealing pools of blood. If Nao weren't so accustomed to such unsightly scenes, she's certain she would have upchucked the day's breakfast right then and there.
"Have any marine ships docked yet?" Nao asks as they turn into an alleyway, leaving the main road.
Rosinante turns around to cock an eyebrow at her question. "Dunno. Aren't you the marine here?"
"M-Me?" she sputters, clearly taken aback at his words. It's such an absurd thing to label her as that it almost draws out a laugh. "I'm not a fuckin' marine."
"You could've fooled me," he speaks pointedly, being completely serious.
Nao can't offer up anything more than a small shrug. He isn't wrong, per se—Nao has spent just as much time training and practicing with Kuzan as the regular marines have. In fact, it'd be more off-putting if they didn't consider her one of them at that point.
But Nao has no intentions of ever working under the world government; the mere thought of it makes her want to vomit just as much as the ruins of Flevance did. The marines themseves might not all be bad—Garp, Kuzan, Rosinante and, on some occasions, Sengoku, had long-since revealed the kindness hidden beneath their gruff personas—but that sure as hell doesn't erase the existence of the horrid crimes the marines, as a whole, have committed.
There's a myriad amount of examples she can cite, ranging from those that have already been done to those that would soon be. For the former, the destruction of Ohara. For the latter, their protection of the cruel Celestial Dragons, their meaningless war against Whitebeard, their active participation in hiding the World Government's inhumane deeds—the list could go on.
If personal things are being taken into account, Ace's future execution is damning enough for Nao to want to stay as far as possible from the side that claimed such a cruel kind of justice.
"Well, good thing I won't be fooling you much longer then," Nao snaps, coming off as harsher than she'd intended.
Rosinante continues to lead her through a series of twists and turns into small streets and alleyways. "What do you mean?"
"What, you'd think I'd stay with the marines forever?" Nao scoffs.
He turns around and blinks, indicating that, yes, that had been what he had assumed.
"Nope," she says all too cheerfully. "Good ole' Rayleigh had asked Garp to drop me off in Foosha village awhile back. I'm only here now because of the shitshow you guys dragged me into back in Mariejois."
Rosinante flinches at the slave rebellion they had unwillingly helped quell together. That day, she realizes, is probably the first time he'd killed someone undeserving of it in the line of duty. Of course, they'd been attacked first, but a detail like that does little to soothe a burden of guilt that heavy. Marines didn't take killiing anyone other than pirates all that well.
"Sorry," she mumbles, and she means it.
Not everyone is suited to bear such a heavy load, and Rosinante especially didn't deserve to have that much blood on his hands.
Nao doesn't want to look him in the eye anymore, but a firm hand grabs hold of her cheeks, forcing her to look up.
Rosinante meets her gaze now, and he gives her a look so unnerving she's afraid he'll see right through the faux, calm character she's spent the past decade crafting. Instead, the man does something that baffles her even more.
He squishes her cheeks once, frowning. "Don't apologize for that, kid."
She wants to cry at the gesture; the silliness of it is astounding, but somehow it had worked to alleviate the tension that had creeped into their conversation. He gives her no time to let the tears come to fruition, though, as he reassumes their speedy pace towards wherever the hell he was leading her, this time grabbing her wrist to drag her along faster.
Whatever it is, it's urgent.
Nao follows behind obediently, letting herself zone out as her body is pulled towards the destination by the blond.
She knew she'd reach this conundrum eventually, though she'd never imagine she'd have to deal with it now of all times.
Currently, the man hauling her with him is so unmistakably full of life that it hurts her to interact with him. The little expressions that cross his face in response to all of Nao's harsh words, the warm of his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, the tentative hope that creeps into his tone as he speaks of Law—they're all painful reminds of what is and what will no longer be.
Rosinante is going to die.
Rosinante is going to die a cold, lonely death at the hands of his own brother.
Rosinante is going to die that terrible death unless Nao does something about it.
It takes little more than another glance at Rosinante's rushing figure for Nao to make her decision. She'd had plans written up for a decade—scenarios she'd planned for and thought over so many times that they're still burned in her memory to this day—but it all means nothing to her now.
There's no point in manipulating the world to adhere to her every whim if she'd only be able to do so by sentencing Rosinante to such a cruel death. She might be winning her battle with Fate, but the loneliness of that reality is all too daunting now that she's gone and gotten attached to the clutz.
Future be damned, Nao steels her heart to stick with the decision. She's going to find a way to save the blond idiot, even if she has to raise hell in the process of trying to do so.
And with that final thought, they reach their destination.
"Here?"
Rosinante nods gravely, looking down at Nao to see if she understands the gravity of the situation. And, by the look on her face, it's obvious that she does and then some.
"The Revolutionaries are here?"
The two of them stand at the very edge of the town—a seemingly forgotten corner of the once-bustling city. The pristine condition of the sidewalk exemplifies just how untouched the area is; not even the massacre's horrors had reached it. Beyond the wall that encapsulated the city lies a smaller dock than that of the one by the main entrance. It's deserted for the most part, save for the lone ship anchored near the shore.
To Nao, it's a familiar ship—one she had even set foot on long ago. Now, though, it is nothing more than another thorn in her side. She stifles an exasperated sigh as she takes a moment to do a small headcount for all the various players that had made their way to Flevance.
She, Kuzan, Rosinante, and Law are a small, scraggly group. The Revolutionaries are, as exhibited by the giant fucking ship in front of her, another presence on the island, and soon, Akainu and his fleet would be arriving for god-knows-what reason.
It's more of a clusterfuck than any of them had signed up for, and only she is well aware of it.
She turns to Rosinante. "How did you find them?"
It's a valid question—the Revolutionaries are, if anything, usually impossible to spot—and Nao can't help but be suspicious of Rosinante's discovery of them. She adores the man, really, but no one just stumbles upon a ship full of the world's most notorious criminals.
"I didn't."
"What?"
"Law did."
"What?!"
Rosinante flinches at Nao's suddenly raised voice, and they're both suddenly very grateful for the existence of his devil fruit.
"The rest of the world might not be able to hear you, but I sure as hell still can," he chastises, only half-meaning it.
Nao has the decency to look a little sheepish for her outburst, but her surprise at the identity of the Revolutionaries' discoverer still remains. "How in the hell did that kid find it before anyone else did?"
Rosinante grins. "Observation haki."
"No way."
"Yes way." He's beaming, all too proud of the little kid he's essentially taken in as his ward. "He can't control it, though—hell, I don't think he even realizes he has it. He was just wandering around the town and realized he was sensing something strange from this general direction. The kid's from here, so it doesn't really take a genius for a local to know that there's another dock around here. I just had to follow him while he thought I wasn't around."
Nao nods along, relieved that Law hasn't changed too much yet this time around. She hates to admit it, but she had been worried over the kid's fate for awhile now; Rosinante had entered his life later than he had in the original timeline. Law possessing observation haki had caught her by surprise, but it isn't something too absurd.
For now, at least, they seemed to be safe from fucking up the future too much.
But, as always, Nao speaks too soon.
Mere seconds after she'd been granted a bit of relief from her burden of having too much knowledge, the relief is ripped away from her.
A booming voice comes from near the Revolutionaries' ship, and both Nao and Rosinante still at the familiarity of it. A sound closely resembling a human's yawn echos all the way into the alleyway they had emerged from, causing the ground to reverbrate from the intensity of it.
Nao, in case she's somehow forgotten within the past few months of relative peace, is reminded of the universe's personal vendetta against her.
"Dat wuz a good nap."
Various images flash through her head as it makes the connection between the voice and its owner. A huge chunk of ice. A carefully held scalpel. Rayleigh's light lecture after the deed had been done.
Nao can't believe her luck.
Jaguar D. Saul is here, and the level of pure fuckery occuring in her life has risen exponentially.
"Vice Admiral Saul?" Rosinante's voice cracks, causing Nao to snap her attention back to the blond.
What she sees takes even her by surprise. Of the various expressions she had expected to see—shock, perhaps, or maybe even utter confusion—the one she hadn't thought the man would wear would be a look of pure joy. He's nearly in tears after correctly identifying the source of the voice, and Nao can't help but appear confused.
"You know him?" Nao asks, unable to contain her curiosity. Every bit of her knows that hightailing their asses out of the area would be the wise move to make, but she can't even bring herself to go, much less take the rejoicing blond with her.
"Know him?!" Rosinante repeats after her. "Of course I know him! I was on his ship!"
Of course. Of-fucking-course.
She curses herself for not connecting the dots before the blond had told her. The day the two of them had met all those years ago—the same day she had uttered the words about Ohara in that shitty little dango shop—Rosinante had been accompanying Garp to Ohara. It'd be improbable for him not to have known the giant
But now isn't the time for a touching reunion.
"We have to go!" she says after a moment of silence. Now it's her turn to drag the blond away.
"I didn't even know he was still alive! How did that manage to happen?! And he's with the revolutionaries no less. This is insane, but he's alive!" Rosinante continues, ignoring Nao's pleas to leave the scene. He's too ecstatic to focus on the mission at hand—reducing the amount of carnage they could soon be be heading their way—and Nao can't blame him for it.
She can, however, snap him the hell out of it.
"Yes, he's alive," she pauses, waiting to see if she got the blond's attention, "but the only reason you thought he was dead was because the other person I came with today fucking froze him."
Rosinante pales at the reminder.
"We have to get the hell away from this dock—before Kuz or Akainu find us."
Saul is hereeeee! Finally, after—what, 20 chapters?! All the important people are lining up. I wonder what for ;)
Did you guys like the chapter? Are y'all surprised at who's all gathered together?
I'm so overwhelmed by how many of y'all apparently stuck around these past couple of years, and I hope I can be more consistent this upcoming year. Thank you so so SOOOO much for reading, guys!
It's a reach, but can we hit 200 reviews in honor of 2019?! :-)
Have a great day, and HAPPY NEW YEARS!