In the Interest of Justice
Chapter 2
.
.
It's been three days and finally the two Monkeys are leaving when evening comes.
In that time, Rosinante has seen exactly where that phrase comes from, that a D who declares their name to the world will bring a storm.
Monkey D. Kitsune is insane. Pure and simple.
It's not a bad kind of insanity- no wait, that's not quite right. It's not an intentionally bad kind of insanity that is. She doesn't go out of her way to harm others, physically or emotionally. It's just that she doesn't consider the harm her actions could bring, past how they affect both her and those she considered friends (how Rosinante has found himself in that category, he doesn't have the slightest idea).
Sometimes she doesn't even consider her own mortality in her actions, so it's hardly surprising that people get caught up in the mayhem she creates.
Like right now.
As she's lobbing cannonballs into the ocean.
She calls it training.
Rosinante now has an idea of just why Sengoku-san always looks so exasperatedly resigned when he has to deal with Vice Admiral Garp. If he's anything like his daughter (as the hole in Sengoku's wall on that first day indicates) then it's obvious why Rosinante's guardian has developed such an expression.
"Rosinante?" That's one good point for her though.
As soon as he'd requested (more like stubbornly pointed out he would prefer) that he be addressed by his full name, Rosinante had been the only term of address Monkey D. Kitsune had used.
Those wide black eyes focus on him, only capable of seeing his physical self. Not the trail of expectations, the disdain and fury that come attached with the Donquixote name.
No, Kitsune knows him only as Rosinante, just like all the other marines. But almost all the marines (certainly all the ones Rosinante has met so far) have to answer to Sengoku. Kitsune... doesn't. For all of her declaration of becoming a Marine, she really doesn't seem like the type to follow orders. Much like her father in that respect.
"Rosinante, would you like to have a go?"
And there she is, this tiny little three year old, standing as tall as her measly height can manage. Her arms are extended, presenting him with a small cannonball. Just like the ones she has spent the past ten minutes launching off of the battlements.
"It's not exactly my style," Rosinante says slowly, puzzling over if the girl can even understand what that means. But she doesn't seem confused, only nods with her little lips pressed together.
"It's not my style either," she agrees sagely, her tiny fingers curling a bit more around her would-be projectile. "It's Papa's style. But he taught me so I'll get better at it, because then it'll make me strong." And she beams, white teeth reflecting the glare of the sun above. With her old Marines hat, knees covered in half healed scabs and dirt (or is it gunpowder?) smeared across one cheek...
Rosinante doesn't have a clue what exactly she looks like. It's unique, not like any person he's ever seen before. Not a World Noble certainly, but nothing like the mean children from North Blue either. Is this what normal children look like? He highly doubts it.
Kitsune takes one more look at him before she nods decisively, lobbing the last cannonball into the sea, clearly putting all her effort into the swing. It sails through the air, landing with a splash and a boom, sending water cascading up and then down, raining across the choppy ocean surface.
Cautiously, almost as if he can't quite believe the sight before him, Rosinante edges closer when he notes that Kitsune has sat herself down. Right on the edge of the battlements, legs swinging back and forth; she has a little smile in her face. It's deceptively serene a scene for the child who'd been causing explosions not a minute ago.
Ever so slowly, Rosinante joins her, allowing his legs to dangle in the open air. The ocean stretches out before them, clear and blue, brilliant and bright. It looks like freedom, for all that it tastes of salt and fish in the back of his mouth. At the height of midday, the sun beats down on the back of their necks, sensationally warm and Rosinante has no problem admitting this is so much nicer than sitting inside all day.
It's quiet as they sit there, watching one of the Marine vessels approach for docking. It looks like a cargo ship, carrying either food or weaponry, one of two options.
By the way Kitsune leans forwards, sniffing the air as she goes, Rosinante would put his bet on food, though how she can smell such a thing from all the way up here remains a mystery to him.
However, the child of D is leaning far too forwards to do anything other than topple right off the battlements and Rosinante panics.
Reaching out, he snatches at the back of her shirt.
Only, he's misjudged the distance and suddenly it's him falling forwards, tumbling head first towards the ocean.
He doesn't even get time to scream in surprise before something snaps around his wrist, holding tight and forcibly halting his descent.
"You're very clumsy, Rosinante," Monkey D. Kitsune muses, a cheery smile on her face as if her tiny three year old hands aren't the only thing keeping him from a very large drop. Her arms tremble a bit, one foot still planted on the wall, and with strength no toddler should have, she hauls him right up, letting out an exhausted exhale once she's done.
Heart still thundering about in his chest, Rosinante lays upon the stone of the battlements, one arm thrown out to the side as the other rests over his fluctuating ribcage.
"I almost died," he gasps, eyes wide and staring up at the clear blue sky. There wouldn't even have been a cloud to witness his death.
"Wouldn't say died," Kitsune points out and then suddenly she's leaning over him, curious big eyes staring right at his own, cheeks flushed from the effort and a smile on her lips. "Maybe got seriously injured, but you seem too sturdy to die from a fall."
Great. If she assumes he'd survive then at least she didn't bring him up here with the intention of pushing him off the edge to get rid of him. Hey, she was a D, and he has the blood of the Tenryūbitos running through his veins, it'll probably pay to be careful. She did save his life just now though, so-
"Thank you, Kitsune."
"Bah, too long, call me something shorter," Monkey D. Kitsune insists and Rosinante grimaces. She thinks her name is too long? It's significantly shorter than his. Still, there's no way he's shortening her name to 'Kit', the implied 'kitten' is both a pet name too much and the implication of this girl being harmless as such a tiny little creature is laughable at best. But...
"Thank you, 'Sune." 'Sune', the pronunciation reminds him terribly of monsoon, a torrential rainfall said to occur during specific climates. Yes, an unstoppable force of nature, relentless and seemingly everywhere at once; it fits the girl to a tee.
"'Sune, huh?" Kitsune repeats, testing out the shortened version for herself before her face lights up. "I like it!" She declares, beaming brightly and finally disappearing from his line of sight, taking the shade she'd provided from the sun with her. "Okay, Rosinante, you can call me Sune and even if I'm going home today I'll write you letters and pass them on to Sengoku so they'll always get to you and you have to answer them okay?"
And then she's back in his face, unnervingly close and Rosinante can't suppress a flinch this time. When had she so boldly invaded his personal space? More importantly, why?
Wait, can a three year old even write letters?
The blond decides to not question it; this is a Child of D after all. If there's a will, there'll be a way. Even if the descendant has to forge their own path, has to smash through wall after wall. Just like her father.
Rosinante knows blood doesn't always sing true though, one only has to look at his own brother for perfect evidence of that. He hopes he's at least in tune with his father though, that he can be as kind and good.
So, to start that-
"Okay. I'll answer your letters."
"Yippee!"
.
The two Monkeys are gone and now Rosinante's haven of Sengoku's office is once again safe territory, no longer all but taken over by Vice Admiral Garp. There's wrappers piled up in the bin from their constant snacking, though Rosinante gets the feeling that Sengoku's was eating more to distract himself from Garp's overpowering presence.
It's unusually quiet and Rosinante is startled to realise in these few short days he's become so used to Kitsune's rambunctiousness, her loud personality and bold exclamations, that he's actually a bit off-put by her absence.
Discomforted, he shifts about in his seat, long legs curled up so he can rest his chin upon his knees. There are stains on the desk that hadn't been there before, tea or coffee, he's not too sure. Maybe a bit of both. Going by the paperwork scrunched up in the waste bin, it's obvious the desk wasn't the only thing the drinks landed on.
Come to think of it, the floor is nowhere near as clear as it had been before the Monkeys visited. At least now that they're gone the canteen won't be running low on food anymore.
"What are your opinions on the two Monkeys then, Rosinante?"
"I- I didn't see enough of Vice Admiral Garp to really give you an opinion," the blond admits and it's true.
Monkey D. Kitsune had demanded all his attention, from her 'training' to her many inquiries on what he knew of the Marine base, to even just asking him pointless questions. He doesn't have a favourite colour, should he? Is that something normal people have? Which colour does he like best?
The Marines wear white, but then so do the Tenryūbito, so that's out right away. Red, red reminds him of the blood that'd run between his fingers as he'd held his father's corpse, and pink is the shine of Doflamingo's glasses. Green is the mould on the food from the trash, yellow is the tinge his mother's skin took with her sickness, purple the colour of lips that no longer allow breath to pass between them. Blue is the sea that they traversed as a family, Blue is the colour that surrounded and engulfed them until it threatened to drown him completely.
All the colours, they all remind him of something horrible, something he'd rather forget, rather pretend never happen only if he does that then he won't be able to fight back, to change things for the better. There's only one really, one he can consider.
Black, black is the colour he'd prefer.
He'll tell Kitsune when he next sees her, or if she actually manages to write him a letter.
At the thought, Rosinante freezes, wondering just how she'd managed to pull him into her friendship so efficiently. He'd never really agreed to it, had he? Yet he's already considering writing her letters.
That brat.
"What do you think of little Kitsune then?"
"She's really bull-headed," Rosinante blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, and though it's damningly true, it's like someone describing him as 'clumsy' and nothing else. It's correct, but it's not everything. "She's nice though, friendly. And determined to become a Marine."
"She's going to be as big a problem as Garp, I can see it already," Sengoku's murmurs, rubbing at the flesh of his forehead as if to relieve a Monkey induced headache.
Given the Garp shaped hole in the battlements, Rosinante can't really argue with that.
He gets the feeling the after effects of the Monkeys' visit will linger for a long time.
.
.
.
.
Time passes swiftly since Father took Kitsune and went off to a Marine base, and she is still quite set on becoming a Marine. Not for the sake of doing the job, not out of a desire to see Justice done or even to help people.
Well, the last might be wrong, because Dragon certainly falls under the label of people.
His little sister is exceptionally weird, but she is his little sister. She could spend her free time blowing spit bubbles and Dragon would still love her. He'd be exasperated by her, surely, but he'd love her. That she's so intelligent, so bright and curious, it just makes things easier.
She's old enough now that Dragon doesn't feel it necessary to leave her behind when he goes to the forest to train. Far from stupid, Kitsune knows to stick close to him, to keep an eye on their surroundings as they move. She's remarkably sharp eyed when it comes to spotting danger, even if she doesn't point it out until it's almost upon them.
There had been one time where the brat had just watched one of those massive pythons sneak up on him, laughing as he'd been forced to wrestle his way out of its deadly hold. He'd bopped her on the head for that one, lightly so as not to cause any real damage, but it'd worked enough as a reprimand.
Kitsune has never allowed another beast to sneak up on him, even if Dragon has since been paying far more attention.
No, instead she attempts to fight them on her lonesome. With a knife, she's remarkable efficient, though the furious glances she sends her weapon shows she's not particularly happy with it. Admittedly a knife doesn't really suit what fighting style Dragon has witness his little sister start developing. In anything, she seems to lean more towards punches and kicks, seems to prefer a complete lack of blade when attacking.
Only she doesn't yet have the strength to her body to make those hits really efficient yet, so it is a blade she's stuck with for now.
"What are we hunting today, Big Brother?" Big Brother, he likes that.
Kitsune has one hand wrapped up in his, the other scratching lazily at her cheek, lips pulled down in a frown. She's waiting patiently for him to answer, Dragon realises.
"Bear. We'll catch a bear, and then I shall begin teaching you the techniques that our father taught me."
Eager and excited when it came to his first child, Garp had beaten all six secret techniques usually only shared with the upper level marines into his head. Though Dragon doesn't quite like using them himself (it's a little too close to being like the Tenryūbito's attack dogs for him to be happy about them) perhaps Kitsune would like them more.
That is not to say she'll be capable of using them in the near future… More like in five or ten years. She'll be prepared though, and she'll have the edge if she carries through with her promise of becoming a Marine.
"Okay!" And Kitsune beams at him, all teeth and wild joy barely leashed in the expression.
Dragon's own lips lift into a frightful grin, free hand ruffling his little sister's soft tresses.
.
Flecked with blood, the bear's fur is still warm between his fingers, the majority of its massive bulk resting upon Dragon's shoulders as leads the way back home. Parading along beside him, Kitsune lifts one of the bear's large paws above her head, looking incredibly proud of herself for 'helping'.
Admittedly she had got a few good shots in before he'd taken the bear down, but when it comes to carrying the beast home he's not about to let Kitsune drag it along in the dirt. They might be able to get some use out of it after all.
"Dragon? Are you still gonna change the world?" He has a smart little sister. Smart enough to not speak openly of his desire for change, of his wish to witness the regime of the Tenryūbito crumble, out in public where anyone could hear.
They are, at their very core, words of treason after all.
By just labelling it a desire to 'change the world', it could imply anything. Such as joining the marines to spend his time catching pirates.
Lips pursing, Dragon adjusts the bear upon his shoulders, glancing at the only other Monkey on the island who barely stands at half his height.
"Yes." It needs to change.
That slavery is allowed, that there are humans upon this planet that can stand so high above others simply for their lineage; it's wrong. Fundamentally so. He doesn't understand why the vast population of the world just haven't revolted, haven't attempted to throw off the shackles that they willingly allow to bind them. If they all rebelled, all at once, there would be no stopping it.
But they are all afraid, too beaten down to rise up, too used to looking upon the walls of their containment that they have forgotten what lies beyond.
Dragon is not caged by his fear, never has been. He stands upon the other side of that prison, dares to be the only one to lift an axe to begin chipping away at those bars. Perhaps it is an impossible dream, but even if it is, Dragon shall still chase after it, shall still run it down until exhausted, it can continue on no longer.
Someday the world will be free, and even if it never comes to fruition while he lives and breathes, even if it is just the first battle in a long war, the end will someday come. He is a D and his will burns white hot, a scorching sun within his stomach. There will be those that inherit it, inherit his will and drive, who aspire for the same things that he does, that long for the taste of freedom, to know a world where there is no cage for the masses, where there is equality.
For that, the Tenryūbito must be destroyed, the world order must be re-established.
A revolution must occur.
"I wonder what it will be like, to live in a world where there are no threatening higher powers," his little sister whispers, giving up the pretence of helping to carry their prey, dropping the leg to the earth with a muffled thump. She scampers along, speeding up so that she may stride before him, walking backwards in order to keep him in her sights.
The others of the village watch her pass by with frowns on their faces, one old woman in particular grimacing.
Ever since their father had decided Dragon was old enough to act as Kitsune's caretaker, they'd been pretty much devoid of adult influences in their life, which is perfectly fine with both Dragon and Kitsune. The adults of the village don't seem too happy with that, but there's little they can do in the face of a Vice Admiral's decision.
It doesn't stop them from glaring, doesn't stop the heavy weight of their stares resting upon Kitsune's shoulders, demanding she start acting like a young lady, as if that is all she is good for. To go on and marry some man, to be nothing but a baby-making machine.
Not while Dragon draws breath.
So he takes the burden of their judgemental stares, meets the eyes of anyone who looks at Kitsune wrong, challenges them until they back down. No expectations will be forced upon his little sister, she will not be forced to bow to the system, not when Dragon is going to tear it all down.
"It'll be different," Dragon decides. "The world will be different, and we struggle to imagine it because oppression has run rampant for far too long."
"I like Big Brother's idea. A world where there's no chance a person can become the property of another human being, where a son won't be blamed for the father's mistakes, where there's no injustice… There are marines that try to do good, like Papa, but there's corruption… Why can only Big Brother see that?"
"Because the world is full of idiots. There are some that see it, some that are aware, but they feel as if they're fish before a shark; inconsequential and incapable of making a difference. So they'd don't bother. They never consider that just maybe if enough of them banded together, they'd be able to make a difference."
"So Big Brother is going to lead the fight," Kitsune concludes, looking quite pleased with herself.
Tiny hands clasped in front of her body, she smiles at him as if he hung the moon, as if the sun rises and falls by his command. He hopes that the stars in her eyes stay that little bit longer, hopes she doesn't realise he too is fallible, that he too can err, just as any other human.
Kitsune pushes open the door of their house, helping him stuff the bear through the doorframe, the dead animal no match for their strenght. They'll be having bear stew for the next day or two, there's enough to last.
"I think that we need to see it though, that you need to see it all before you really commit yourself to this, Kitsune."
She startles at the sound of her name, though that is no surprise. Between them, it is always 'Big Brother' or 'Little Sister'. Actual names are only ever used when the topic is serious, when it needs to be paid due consideration.
"I… need to see what?" Head tilting to a side, Kitsune stares up at him with huge dark eyes, the baby blue he'd first seen there long gone. No longer are they a clear blue sky, now they house a rumbling storm, just waiting to burst with the first fork of lightning. Just like Mother had promised.
"The world. You need to see it before you make a decision."
Dragon has already seen it, has witnessed the escaped slaves being dragged back by marines, has seen executions of those that unknowingly helped pirates or just committed a 'crime', or so the Tenryūbito said. He knows all that is wrong with the world, knows it as surely as he draws breath, as surely as he feels the blood roar in his ears.
Kitsune does not.
She has seen the Marine Base from beneath the shelter of Father's protective form; were she stripped of that security, her experience would have been a very different thing indeed.
"We're… leaving the island? But I'm only five."
Squinting, Kitsune peers up at him, a suspicious set to her frown, as if she's looking for the punchline, waiting for the other shoe to drop, all the while presenting him with five raised fingers, as if to remind him of her actual age. It is as if she expects him to say Father will be coming with them, or that he's bartering with pirates for safe passage.
But no, it is neither of these things.
He has found a merchant ship that delivers office supplies to a Marine base in the first half of the Grand Line. In a stroke of luck, the vessel has been assigned a marine battleship for an escort, not become it carries important cargo, but simply because the warship was already due to make the journey and they might as well travel together.
There will be no better opportunity to get out unless they spend several more years training.
By that point, Dragon wants to be able to start building the foundations of his Revolution, so it really is now or never. He knows the six Marine techniques, and while perhaps not as efficient as an actual marine, it'll be enough to get by, that's for certain.
"As long as you listen to my orders when I give them, we will be fine." Of that, Dragon is sure.
He's a strong, capable swimmer, as is Kitsune. It comes with living on an island, they have no other choice but to be able to tread water at the very least.
"…Okay. You can show me what's wrong with the world. And then we'll figure out how to change it. Because that's what Big Brother wants to do. And I want to help Big Brother do it."
Lips stretched wide, Kitsune bares her teeth in an animalistic grin, running a hand through her hair.
What else is there to do, other than grin back?
.
.
.
.
A spare pair of clothes, several sets of underwear and socks, along with other necessities have been forcibly stuffed into one sturdy backpack, leaving her with nothing else to pack.
Slinging the bag onto her back, Kitsune stands, hands curling around the leather handles. She's ready to get out of this village, to see the world. It's strange, being suddenly faced with the edge of the world she knows and just knowing it is about to expand. That she is about to leave this small pond and drop right into the ocean.
It's going to be a shock, she's not going to pretend otherwise.
But right now, it isn't the Great Age of Piracy, there is no legend of the Pirate King and the Marines hold the four Blues between their tight fingers.
Only the Grand Line slips through, and even then they are scrambling to grab hold of it.
It won't work, Gol D. Roger and his pirate age will ensure that. But the Marines are trying, and that has to be acknowledged right now.
The current state of the world cannot be ignored simply because it is not what she expected, not what she likes. While it is a bit scary that the 'bad' side control the vast majority of the world, is that not how all tales start out? A big bad evil for the hero to take down?
After all, Luffy is not exactly a hero. If anything, he's chaotically neutral, looking out for what he considers his own interests. It's only fate that he comes to be upon what can be considered the 'good side', and isn't every character a hero from their own point of view?
If they were to be sectioned off, then pirates would be neutral, the Marines and Tenryūbito would be the evil, and the Revolutionaries would be the good. Because they actively oppose the injustice that the Tenryūbito inflict upon the world. Or rather, they will.
When Dragon gets it all set up and going that is.
"Come along, Little Sister. We're going."
Snatching up Dragon's large hand in her own, Kitsune, tucks the other one into the pocket of her shorts, staring at the small boat that will be meeting up with the actual merchant ship they'll be travelling on.
As it turns out the upper echelons of the Marines import special golden pens for signing documents, one of the few things the Goa Kingdom produces. Luckily, this presents them with their ticket out of here for the new few weeks.
While part of her is cautious, another couldn't care less. Dragon is strong after all, he's going to become the most wanted man in the world and he'd can't do that if he dies here. Luffy'll never be born without him; they're going to be okay.
Reassured, she bounces along beside Dragon, the wood of the docks creaking under her feet. They won't need replacing for a while yet, the sea here is too calm to cause them much damage; she wonders what the sea will be like when they actually leave the safety net of Dawn Island.
"Are you ready, Kitsune?"
They've stopped just before the gangplank, Dragon holding their tickets in his free hand, dark eyes heavy as they rest upon her head.
Kitsune swallows, looking back out towards the village, at the people that peer cautiously after them. They're strange people, the occupants of this Foosha of the past. Kitsune wonders if she'll run into Makino at some point, the girl should be somewhere between her and Dragon's age, shouldn't she? She's the only person Kitsune feels she'd recognise on sight, given her distinctive hair colour. Everyone else… They're just people filling the space.
She wonders where her future nephew's mother is; does she come from Dawn Island too? Or does Dragon meet her when he's off travelling?
Still, she's had enough of pondering over all of this. It's time to go see the world.
"I'm ready, Big Brother."
.
Even in the life before this, Kitsune had never really been on a ship. She'd built a raft one year, floating out into the centre of a small pond and then had to swim back to shore when it'd collapsed under her. She'd been eleven at the time, water-logged trousers clinging to her legs like a second skin and she's pretty certain she'd kicked a fish when she'd been making her way through the water.
That was all in another life though; here she's never done much more than splash about in the river, kick at the ocean waves as they crest upon one of Dawn Island's many beaches.
Standing upon this vessel, looking in every direction and meeting nothing more than endless blue, it's another thing altogether. The fish here are probably the kind that'd respond to a kick by eating her, she thinks with shallow amusement.
Not to mention the Sea Kings.
"So we're going through the Calm Belt?" Kitsune asks, eyeing up the other ship, the battleship, that's accompanying them.
Rumour has it there's a marine onboard with a Devil Fruit power and that's what's going to get them through the Calm Belt so quick. That some poor sap had eaten a Fruit which gave him the power to keep an object's movement consistent and then got lumped escorting merchant ships to Marine Bases…
Well Kitsune's not too sure what to think on that. Other than it sucks to be that guy. Still, being able to move ships through still waters, through a sea that lacks any kind of wind is pretty cool.
Not a power worth giving up the ability to swim for of course, but it's alright.
"We are."
"Will we see a Sea King?"
Dragon flicks his eyes to a side, glancing down at her and Kitsune stares up into his face, waiting for a response.
"Possibly."
Humming low in the back of her throat, Kitsune tears her eyes away from her older brother to instead look towards the horizon, staring out at the endless background of blue. Blue sky, blue water, blue dolphin... giant blue dolphin.
"Look, Dragon, look! I think it's a Sea King!"
Tugging at Dragon's sleeve to get his attention, Kitsune points out after the spot where the creature had disappeared into the ocean, eyes scanning the surface on the chance its re-emerge for her older brother to see. After all, Dragon has only ever been out to sea when Papa took him to the Marine base when he was a kid (long before she was born) and he'd refused to go back since. If he did spot a Sea King, he's probably forgotten what it looks like by now.
"Kitsune," Dragon murmurs, one big hand running through her hair, fingers scratching at her scalp as he forcibly stills the excited motion of her head.
She allows it, letting the momentum of her bouncing leave her, loosening her limbs and falling pliable beside her older brother.
"I'm excited," she admits petulantly, bottom lip jutting out and glancing away. "The sea's an adventure."
She'd not gotten to go on an adventure in her old life. It'd been the daily grind back then, constantly jumping through this hoop and that hoop to get by. Exploring lands, fighting incredible battles, sailing upon the open seas; these is the kind of thing adventures are made out of. The kinds of plot-lines she'd have read about in books before heading off to another day at work.
Right now, Kitsune finds herself in the ultimate daydream, the perfect example of escapism, a wonderful, glorious place that is already so promising despite all its faults. If she's excited, then who can blame her?
"Someday the sea will be safe from the Tenryūbito," Dragon promises in a low tone, resting one elbow on the railing of the ship, the other receding from her hair to instead curl around her shoulder, pressing her close.
She's not yet tall enough to see over the railings so Kitsune instead peers right through them, tiny handles curling into the wooden beams, thankful the shipwrights had decided to go experimental with the railing design instead of sticking with the usual solid wood fencing. At least she gets to see the world go by now, instead of just watching the glaring sun steadily roll through the cloudless sky.
"I'll make sure of it."
"Why does it have to be Big Brother that starts the fight though?" Kitsune already knows, she knows exactly why Dragon has taken it upon himself to set off a revolution, to spark the flames of a kindling that's been building for centuries.
"Because no one else will. I refuse to sit back and ignore it. Perhaps it is what I was put upon this earth to do," the elder Monkey murmurs, lifting his hand from the railings to cradle his chin instead, a bastardized version of the thinker pose.
Lips twitching up at the sight, Kitsune steps closer to Dragon until she can get a good handle on his shirt, climbing up his tall form until she's hanging from his shoulders.
Automatically his arms curl around the underside of her thighs, allowing her to ride piggyback. She can see a fair bit more from up here, at the actual height an adult can achieve. And Dragon still has a few years left to grow yet, Kitsune recalls.
"I think Dragon will be a great leader," Kitsune avows, resting her chin atop his shoulder forehead pressing into the sharp angle of her older brother's jaw. "You can do anything. Just like Papa, just keep bulldozing over everyone who tells you anything different."
"I will, Little Sister, if you never let anyone tell you what to do as well. We will be free as the wind and nothing, no Marines or Tenryūbito will ever be capable of controlling us." Tilting his head up, staring at the burning sun that rests in the sky, Dragon grins, ferocious and proud. "I'd soon die than fall at their mercy."
The Spartacus of their world, the first great Revolutionary is carrying her upon his back, Kitsune realises. Ready to lead an uprising, the likes of which the world and the controlling empire that is the Tenryūbito's World Government have never seen before. Only she gets the feeling he will be far more successful than the Roman Revolutionary, because she cannot see Dragon ever being cornered, ever being stopped.
Perhaps in the early days he will only be labelled an agitator, as Lenin and Trotsky once were, but Kitsune is well aware of just how that particular tale ended. With successful revolution, even if it had been twisted into Stalinism after a few decades. While she may have been born much earlier than the actual plot of the manga she remembers, she has been born into a time where she will be able to witness the rise of a new Fidel Castro.
Will this make her Dragon's Che Guevara? Something worth pondering over, Kitsune acknowledges with a little frown. Though there will be no betrayals between them. It's just not a fathomable idea.
"I don't like slavery, I can't stomach the thought that there are people in this world that are considered nothing more than the property of another person. I don't like that some people have that kind of power, especially since they're the exact opposite of people that should be in power."
There's quiet as they look out over the ocean, Kitsune's dark hair burning hot beneath the heat of the midday sun.
"We are very alike, Little Sister. But I will not allow you to aid me until you are older. Not in an actual fight."
"That's okay. I can gather information for now. I'm a kitsune remember? Kitsunes are good at tricking others."
Dragon laughs and the sound puts her at ease, tension leaking from her shoulders as she slumps more into the sturdy form of Dragon's back.
"That I do believe, Little Sister."
.
A fortnight passes as they travel upon the ship, and despite a few sightings of Sea Kings (along with one attack, though the Marine battleship had quickly taken care of that) their journey has been quiet. Almost ridiculously so.
Kitsune finds her skin itching, her limbs twitching. Perhaps that burning desire for adventure is genetic, perhaps Luffy's questionable sanity is driven by this feeling. Kitsune's not sure; maybe it didn't skip Dragon at all, but because he has already found his calling in life he's capable of ignoring it. Who knows? Certainly not her, that is for sure.
Chewing on her lower lip, the brunette adjusts her stance as Dragon eyes it, loosening the joints but keeping the muscles ready to spring to action. Not relaxed, but not tensed. Somewhere between, something reactive.
Just because they are not at the island anymore, just because they cannot hunt and fight the large than life wildlife, does not excuse any form of slacking.
Instead she spars with Dragon, despite the clear difference in their height and weight, despite the fact that should he put forth the effort he could wipe the floor with her. She's young, her body weak, Kitsune knows. But that doesn't mean she cannot be as effective a fighter as possible. It doesn't mean she cannot use the underestimations others will have of her physical appearance to her advantage.
Kitsune springs forwards, quick as she can, and slams a roundhouse kick into Dragon's thigh with all the strength she can summon up. He doesn't budge an inch from where he's standing, but his lips do curl up into a pleased smile. That has to mean she's making some kind of progress, right?
"Again."
It's just irritating that he's such a hard-assed taskmaster.
Inhaling, Kitsune settles low onto the balls of her feet again, tiny hands clenching into fists. She can't wait until she's back to normal, until she's an adult again. Being trapped in a child's body, no matter how much she feels like a child sometimes, sucks. There's just so damn much she misses. Being talked down to by everyone that isn't Dragon is one of the major things, though not the only one.
Weight shifting onto her back foot, Kitsune tenses her muscles to spring forwards-
The sudden rocking motion of the ship has her sprawling across the floor mid-motion though.
Lifting her head from the parquet and working her jaw back and forth (she can all but feel the friction burn that's forming on the underside of her chin) Kitsune shoots a questioning glance to Dragon who's gone tense.
"Big Brother?"
His hand is on her shoulder mere moments later, hoisting her up.
Kitsune makes no protest about being handled like a sack of rice, especially given the hostility and stress that seems to be radiating off of her older brother in thick waves.
"The ship is under attack," Dragon finally concludes, features expressionless and voice giving away even less than his face.
"Under attack?" Kitsune repeats numbly, head whirling. On one hand, this is the adventure she'd been waiting for. Yet, she's woefully underprepared for actual battle.
"We'll head for a row boat and get out during the chaos."
There's no arguing with Dragon's plan of action, and though part of her stings at the thought of fleeing, it is the most sensible thing to do. She can't fight and Dragon can't fight and defend her at the same time. Their priorities are their lives and each other, no matter how ruthlessly they/re condemning those on board by leaving them.
There's a Marine battleship floating right beside them, they'll be fine, surely.
Guilt subverted, Kitsune wraps her arms around Dragon's neck and her legs around his waist, clinging like a limpet mine, though she has no plans to explode all over her already stressed brother. It frees up his limbs, just in case he needs the use of his arms to get them out of the firing range.
.
They don't so much as burst up onto the deck as they slink out from behind the door.
The complete opposite of his future child, Dragon stealthily edges them along the wall, hiding in the shadows that's cast by the setting sun, retreating away from the port side where the source of the explosions come from.
Kitsune watches the men in marine uniforms storm towards the threat with wide eyes. They're clearly outmatched, the fact this attack hasn't been dealt with in the two minutes it's taken Dragon to get them out of the hull is proof enough.
That it's only gotten worse shows they're going to end up trounced, no matter how hard they fight.
They're just not strong enough, Kitsune realises, and neither her or Dragon fighting would have made much of a difference. Plus if they joined in, Papa'd kill them even more brutally than he's already gonna do for daring to leave Dawn Island.
They're almost to the boat, almost to what promises to be freedom, when it hits.
Like a physical force only there's no painful impact.
Instead it's like shock; her whole body feels weak, skin clammy and each breath she takes feels far, far too shallow. Her chest hurts, Kitsune realises as Dragon stumbles and she's falling.
It takes her a moment to realise Dragon hasn't dropped her (can't have dropped her, he hadn't been holding her so it's her own limbs that gave out?) and that she's fallen of her own accord.
As if to make things worse, so much worse, the pressure blasts into her again, stronger this time and it feels like her whole body is shutting down, as if someone's pressing the power button and watching the screen turn black.
She chokes on something; it's cold, why is it suddenly so cold?
Kitsune tries to voice her question, eyes flicking to Dragon who's been forced to one knee by the pressure, but still holds his head high, still faces the figures that're making their way towards them, a solid wall between the attackers and her.
It's the last thing Kitsune see's before the beast of unconsciousness sinks it's sharp fangs into her neck.
.
.
.
.
Rosinante slaps at the side of his neck, praying he hasn't just gotten bitten by another mosquito.
This base (in South Blue, as far away from the last sighting of Doffy as he can possibly be) is nowhere near as pleasant as the last one that Sengoku had taken him to. It's humid, it's a paradise for what seems to be half the world's population of insects and it's horribly humid.
Did he mention that already? Well that just proves how god dam awful it is.
He can't remember too much of Mariejois; he'd not even turned six before they'd left, but the weather had always been pleasant, he recalls that much.
South Blue does have one thing going for it though; no one knows the name Donquixote. Nobody recognises it, nobody looks upon him as scum, as a thing to be treated with hate and disgust because they do not know his past.
It's the first time in years Rosinante has been able to use his family name and he's still undecided on how he feels about that.
Running a hand through the thick blond locks that are sticking to his forehead, plastered there with clammy sweat, Rosinante grapples for the brim of his official Marine hat, removing it from his head to use as a substitute fan instead.
He's little more than a chore boy right now, but given that he's only eleven it's a miracle he's been allowed to enrol at all. He's rather certain it has something do do with Sengoku's heavy-handed character recommendation, but Rosinante isn't about to complain given he's got what he wanted.
From what he's been able to gather of the whispers regarding Doffy's movements, his older brother is making significant headway on becoming a pirate.
Rosinante absolutely cannot become a pirate, cannot become what his brother has chosen to be. He has to stop the evil that is his only blood relative, and becoming a Marine will mean gaining the strength and resources to do just that. He'll be able to stop his brother... and make Sengoku proud. He owes that man so much, a man that's looks after him and cares for him these past few years...
It's almost like having a father again.
"Donquixote?"
Snapping to attention, Rosinante salutes the petty officer stood before him, trying to stem the pride that wells in his chest, a sensation that comes from wearing a uniform and being able to officially salute someone.
"You've got a letter, kid."
Accepting the brown envelope that's pressed into his hands, Rosinante barely waits for the man to leave before he's opening it.
As promised, Monkey D. Kitsune has been writing him letters ever since they first parted ways and though he's on good terms with his fellow chore boys... Kitsune was the first.
His first friend, the first to look at him and see someone worth keeping around. It's silly because she was a little brat, only three years old, but he still likes writing to her even after two years have passed by.
She's a lot smarter then he'd been expecting too; it's more like talking to someone his own age, if not older. That's not a bad thing though.
The penmanship is far more fluid than the first letter he ever received, something that has clearly come with practice.
Slapping his hat back atop his head, Rosinante makes his way to the corridor leading to the battlements of the base. He's off duty now, having finished his tasks for the day, so he'll find someone peaceful and quiet to read.
.
Not quite secure in his balance yet, Rosinante (rather wisely) decides to not seat himself upon the edge of the walls, instead leaning back against one of the cannons, sitting upon the stone floor as he unfolds his correspondence.
Kitsune's letters are often long, rambling things, filled with what adventures she's been on (which mostly consists of hunting and fighting the wildlife found on her home island) to pondering what kind of madness she might one day find upon the Grand Line.
She speaks of helping people, of saving them from tyrants and those that abuse their powers. She wants to be a good marine and Rosinante can respect that.
After living with Doffy and his growing resentment, Kitsune's bold innocence and hope is always uplifting to read about.
Which is why the end paragraph of the letter send him into a spiralling panic.
Is this what a heart attack feels like?!
Chest tight and mouth dry, Rosinante stumbles to his feet, scrambling for the entrance to the base before he recalls Sengoku is no longer here, has set off for the Grand Line after whispers that Shiki the Golden Lion was growing restless. He knows his guardian has his heart set on catching that pirate so Rosinante hadn't protested, hadn't demanded to be brought along where he could get in the way. He wishes he done otherwise now though, because-
'Big Brother and I are off on an adventure! Don't tell Papa, but we're leaving the island for a bit! We'll be back before he knows we've been gone though, so don't be surprised if it takes me a while to get your next letter. I'll tell you all about it when I get back. -Sune'
God damn it, where did he put that Den Den Mushi Sengoku gave him?! This is unquestionably an emergency! Vice Admiral Garp's five year old daughter roaming the seas?! Anything could happen to Rosinante's friend and his parents were right.
Children of D are nothing but trouble.
Rosinante forces his mind to slow, fingernails biting into the meaty flesh of his palms. Focus. Think.
The Den Den Mushi will be in his quarters, so that's where he needs to go.
Spinning on the balls of his feet, the former Tenryūbito overbalances and slams his face into the floor, long limbs sprawled hazardously out in all directions.
God damn it, he won't be stopped from warning Sengoku's of Kitsune's M.I.A status because of his inability to not be a complete klutz.
It takes him a moment to get his feet under him again, but then he's off.
.
.
So, just under 500 followers on the first chapter? That is insane, especially when I warned this story wasn't planned out (I've got chapter 4 planned now, so yippee?) and that updates won't be as steady (as steady as one such as I can manage anyway) as Marines' is. Oh guys, guys. You're all so lovely and wonderful, thank you.
I do hope you all like where this chapter is going. Stuff is gonna happen quicker in this fic that Marines, as you can tell.
Your humbled author,
Tsume
xxx