Coming Into Your Own

Hi all! This is the first chapter in a roughly 15 chapter fic. I'm hoping to update at least once a month. I've had the idea for a Smoker and Kuzan meeting and falling in love for a while now. Well, let's get to it!


Chapter 1: New Recruit

This far out, the darkness seemed all consuming. All encompassing. But it wasn't. After a little under a half hour, his eyes adjusted. The night sky going from deep black, spotted with a few tiny lights, to a full spectrum of billions, all spread out high above. They reflected off the surface gently undulating below him, making it seem like he was walking in a vortex of light.

Kuzan looked down at the thin barrier of ice he'd created under his feet. It was all that stood between him and the great void. How easy it would be to just break the ice and sink. Here in the darkness, he could just slip away. After all, what would it matter? The world would go on without him. Pirates would continue pillaging, the Navy would continue resisting them, and the World Government would make them all dance to their tune, none the wiser.

Or maybe they made the World Government react and spin, and in turn they reacted and spun, like the heavenly bodies. Around and around. Forever stuck in a waltz.

He snorted and lifted his bottle of Jerez to his lips, but nothing came out of it. Empty. Damn. He blinked at the man-made object in his hand, the stars glinting off of it making it seem of them and not of his own messy world, then sighed.

With that, Kuzan turned around and began walking back towards the shore, leaving the dark mass of the ocean behind him, the lights of G-9 glaring out, beckoning him forward. Maybe if he walked fast enough, he would be in time for last call at the nearest bar.


Walking on solid ground was jarring, he decided as he made his way through the cobbled streets of Magnus, heading for the Line, the unspoken border between Magnus and Vensai. The best place for a bar with good alcohol to be situated. Run down enough to be ignored by uppity shitheads, but just upscale enough to have decent security preventing desperate fucks from robbing it.

Of course the Line was right near the Keide Bridge, and his favorite bar, The Haze, sat just on the Vensai side of the bridge, short and squat between a tattoo place and a bodega. He could see the familiar red lanterns, their light reflecting off the damp cobblestones, turning the road a bloody color.

Good, still open then.

It was as he reached the end of the bridge that the door was flung open and four guys walked out. Kuzan raised an eyebrow. Their postures were not the slouch and lean of men drunk enough to piss off their wives when they got home, but instead were stiff and hostile.

A brawl. A young guy a few feet shorter than himself with a shock of white hair was facing off against the three others. His fists were up in a way that told Kuzan that he was no stranger to fights, his center of gravity balanced over his knees. The other three were a mess, probably used to their numbers and size making people back off. Slowly, Kuzan came to a halt across the street, watching the boys face off with vague interest. They were blocking the entrance to the bar, but he figured that they would move away in a few minutes, and if not...well he could always make them move.

The white haired guy glared at his opponents as they circled him. The largest guy, heavy on top from too many beers moved first, lunging at Whitey, who dodged, kicking the idiot in the ass and sending him sprawling. The other two came in then, one for a tackle, the other aiming a punch at Whitey's face. A slow grin spread across Kuzan's face as Whitey sidestepped, letting the one trying to punch him get tackled by his friend.

By this point, the first guy was back on his feet and the fight continued, Kuzan watching patiently. It was obvious that Whitey was the better fighter, his opponents too pissed to figure out that they were going to lose.

Although...Kuzan's years of experience made him watch the smallest one. There was a malicious glint to his beady eyes, something about the way he moved that marked him as the leader of the three, and also as the most cunning.

Kuzan watched Whitey throw the biggest guy into his buddy, the leader moving out of the way. No, not cunning. Underhanded. Kuzan's eyes narrowed as Beady Eyes made his move while Whitey's back was turned.

Out came the switchblade, glinting in the bloody lamp light. Whitey whipped around at the sound of Beady's rush towards him, his eyes widening as he went to block him, but he was expecting a punch, not a knife.

And that's when Kuzan stepped in. He'd seen the knife tucked into Whitey's boot. He could have made quick work of his opponents, but he was being honorable by only making it a fight with his fists. And Beady violated that.

Just before the blade could connect with Whitey's forearm, Kuzan grabbed Beady by the shoulder and flung him across the street and into the wall of the building on the other side with a sickening thud, knocking him unconscious. His two companions stared at their boss, their eyes darting to look at Kuzan, then turned and fled down the street.

Kuzan yawned and placed his hand on the door handle. He'd finally be able to get the drink he came here for. Thunk. He looked down, a hand pressed against the door, holding it shut. Kuzan followed the hand back to its owner, Whitey. A pair of glaring amber eyes looked up at him, "You gonna cause trouble?"

Kuzan stared. The idiot had guts, he'd give him that, but seriously, Kuzan just prevented him from getting stabbed and instead of thanking him, was accusing him?

What a funny guy.

But Kuzan was over this, he just wanted to get a drink and refresh the buzz he was losing. "Look, I just wanna get a drink, before they close," he said tiredly and went to pull the door open. But the idiot got in his face again, his eyes still fierce. "You didn't answer my question," he growled. Kuzan gazed at him. If he wanted to guard the bar so bad, then…

In an instant, ice bloomed around Whitey's feet, sticking him in place. Using the guy's shock, Kuzan pulled open the door and stepped inside bar, ignoring the guy's snarl as the door shut behind him.


Smoker sighed as he glared at his new office. The Captain he replaced had been a total slob, and worse, appeared to not have done any paperwork beyond what was necessary for what looked like months. Papers stacked over a foot tall covered the entirety of the desk, with more on the floor. The small couch on the other side of the desk was stained and Smoker could see a few empty bottles of beer peeking out from underneath it. His lips curled in disgust.

Just what he needed on his first day. This was just the nail in the coffin that confirmed his suspicions however. The island was a fucking mess. He frowned, remembering the night before. The moment after he placed his stuff down in his new quarters, Smoker had left to explore his new posting. The best way to understand a place was to go out and learn it yourself. Reports would only tell him so much. So he'd gone out and walked the streets of the City of Magnus, famous for its booze and great trading port.

Eventually, he ended up at that bar with those fucking assholes who were bothering the bartender. His eyes narrowed as he recalled the face of the fucker who pulled a knife on him. His eyes narrowed further as he then recalled the much bigger threat that came after that, the tall guy with the ice powers. It had taken him a good hour to get out of that fucking ice, and by that time the bar had closed and the fucker had wandered off out the back door!

That was a dangerous power user, he'd be sure to report it to his superior… which reminded him. Smoker turned and looked at the clock on the wall. It was past nine in the morning, and yet Smoker was one of the only people in the office. He pursed his lips. He didn't know much about Vice Admiral Kuzan, but he was thus far not impressed.

With a sigh, Smoker sat down at the desk and began trying to figure out the reports on his desk.


Smoker groaned as he leaned away from his desk, rubbing his neck. Fuck the man he'd replaced, Captain Nozuki Ericsson. Fucker did not deserve his title. The reports were full of requests from citizens about assorted crimes, in addition to reports on underground and pirate activity. Hina hadn't been joking when she said the G-9 was a mess.

He opened his eyes, sliding to the clock. Two in the afternoon. He'd been at this for hours. His stomach growled. Smoker took a breath. Fuck it, he needed a break, and he wanted to see who was in the office, he needed someone to attempt to explain to him why things were in such a state before he brutally ripped into them that their excuses were full of shit.

With a frustrated grunt, he got up and left his office. His ire grew as he left his floor, finding it fuller than it was before, but that many of the people he expected to be there were not. The Base Command Unit of the G-9 should not look like it was half staffed! He could feel the stares of the few officers on his back as he passed by them. They didn't know him yet, but they would.

It didn't take him long to find the main Mess Hall. It was in the middle of Base, close to the training grounds, which, Smoker noted as he made his way towards the building, were empty. There should be men running drills out there, or at the very least small groups practicing! What the hell?! How did Vice Admiral Kuzan still hold his rank?! This was utter bullshit!

As he entered the building, he felt himself reaching new levels of irritation. The place was packed. No way this many soldiers would be scheduled to be on break at this time. His eye twitched. The place looked more like bars he'd been to on shore leave. A group in the back caught his eye. Was that...a betting circle? Were the fucking Marines sitting on their asses drinking and gambling like a bunch of pirates?!

Like hell. Not on his watch.

He took a deep breath, letting the air fill him up, before bellowing "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU ALL THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" The hall went silent as all eyes turned on him. The marines (god they didn't even deserve to be called that right now!) looked at each other and then back at him. A few more seconds passed before one of them, a man with long purple hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail spoke up. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm the Captain of Base Command, Smoker, now I'll ask you one more time. What. The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You. Are. All. Doing?!" his voice was a deadly hiss, a tic forming on his forehead. There was silence and then one of the men said with a shrug "We don't work till Vice Admiral Kuzan gets in," and turned back to his comrades. Smoker stared. What. the. Absolute. Fuck.

He cracked his knuckles. Oh he was going to have a word when he found Vice Admiral Kuzan.


Smoker sat in Kuzan's office. It was nearly 4pm, and his "superior" officer had yet to show. He clenched his jaw. It ached from where he'd taken a punch earlier, but he felt that he'd gotten his point across, if the looks on his men's faces as they rushed out of the Mess Hall and to their proper stations was anything to go by. They hadn't expected one of their fellows to beat the hell out of them.

He glared around Kuzan's office again. It was pretty spare, though in comparison, to his own, there appeared to be very little paperwork anywhere. Maybe Ericsson had left because Kuzan actually overworked him. The beer bottles under the couch in Smoker's office suddenly took on a different light. His eyes narrowed darkly.

A sudden sound made him look towards the door. Footsteps. Smoker crossed his arms. So he was going to finally meet the bast-

No.

Standing in the doorway was the Ice Fucker from last night. He was wearing a sloppy jacket and a casual pair of jeans, with boots, and a...was that a sleeping mask on his head?! He looked down at Smoker, then looked back out in the hallway like he was expecting someone to explain Smoker's presence to him.

"Uh...Can I help you?" he asked, not even bothering to suppress a yawn. Smoker's eye twitched. Kuzan walked to his desk and sat down in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk as Smoker got to his feet and approached the desk. Kuzan eyed him, then something like recognition crossed his face. "Wait, have we met before?" Smoker glared at him, eye level now that he was standing and the stupid bastard was sitting. He clenched his jaw and growled, "What the hell is wrong with you? It's four in the fucking afternoon, and you're just now showing up here?!" Kuzan stared at him, "Oh shit, are you the guy I went home with last night?"

What? Smoker stared at him, his mouth dropping open.

"Ah, look, I was really plastered last night...and I don't really uh...do mornings. So uh...sorry." He rubbed the back of his head. Smoker gaped at him before exploding "What?! No! You froze me to the ground outside the bar last night!" Kuzan blinked at him and then started to laugh. Smoker had never felt so irritated at someone that was not a pirate in his entire 20 years of life.

"Ararara, my bad. In that case," Kuzan tilted his head at him and in an instant the temperature dropped in the room, literally and figuratively. "What are you doing in my office?" Smoker glared right into Kuzan's brown eyes.

"I'm Smoker, your new second-in-command."


Notes:

So, that's how they meet. It could have gone better, but where is the fun in that? I made up the G-9, and the island and city they are in. I will be doing my best to stick to canon events. Anyway, let me know your thoughts! As always, thank you for reading and you can find me on twitter at buggyisbest