Title: Something Gained
Summary: There's something strange about that forest, Sabo can feel it, but it's hardly enough to make him risk his life.
Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of its characters.
Note: I'm drowning in homework. Drowning in it. Someone please save me.
Sometimes, when Sabo is visiting the Grey Terminal, he'll glance toward the bordering forest of Mt. Corvo. He's not sure why, for the most part, but he can't help but feel something important lies behind its thick shadows. It's his first visit that he realizes there's something off about it, but he brushes it off, because even as young as he is (only four), he's heard the rumors of that mountain and the jungle that surrounds it, and the idea of getting anywhere near it, no matter what his gut tells him, is enough to make his stomach turn.
He instead lets himself be caught up in the fantastic stories weaved by the Terminal's inhabitants. He doesn't worry about truth or embellishment, only the sense of wonder and freedom they bring him, something he's never had, growing up in High Town. They warn him of course, when he first gets there. A child like him shouldn't be running around a place like the Terminal, especially a noble, but it doesn't stop him, because he's there for that very reason, for the freedom inherent in a lawless zone.
The mystery, he thinks, is what drew him in, and the stories are what made him come back. It doesn't really matter that it's dangerous, and when he's older he forgets whether it's because he was too young to know what danger was, or he was too desperate for freedom to care. Either way, his visits to the Terminal become a part of his life, and soon the regulars and permanents realize he's not listening and just indulge him. It's a change from the usual for them too, at least, having such a bright and starry eyed kid around to boast to.
It's not until he's been back enough that he's already learned everyone's names that he spares the mountain another glance. This time though, he thinks he may have caught a glimpse of something beyond the trees. It's impossible to tell what it is, if there was anything at all to begin with, so he brushes it off and promises himself to ask someone next time.
Except next time he doesn't really get the chance. He's staring off at the mountain again when one of the older fellows catches him and is quick to turn him away.
"That mountain is dangerous you know," he says, matter of fact, warning as much as it is scolding. "I don't know what you're planning," he continues, "but I'd drop it right now. Only bandits and monsters live on that mountain." He turns away, his piece said, but scoffs with a quick, humorless laugh, "Sometimes don't know which is worse," more for himself than for Sabo, though he hears it all the same.
It makes sense, he thinks. No one's ever gone past the barriers the trees create before, at least not while he's been here, and even the books he's read on this islands history while at home have only ever mentioned the dark and harsh nature of Mt. Corvo. That should be the end of it, and it almost is, but then he remembers the shape he might have seen and the pulling in his gut that tells him something important is in there. His resolve strengthens, and he hurries home to pack his bags.
There's a mess spread out around him. His backpack is empty, but there's food, changes of clothing, a bed role, and even basic toiletries loosely organized in a circle with him in the center. More than anything he wants to get this right, even if he is only five, even if he is noble, even if it is Mt. Corvo. Sabo's going to be prepared, he'll make sure of it.
It's nearing his bed time now, but Sabo's sure his parents won't mind if he stays up just a little bit late. This is important after all, and even if it's hard for them to show it he's sure they love him. No matter what, he doesn't want to make them worry. Soon he loses track of time, sorting between what to bring and how much, falling asleep on the floor in the middle of packing an extra set of clothes.
The next morning, his mother walks into his room to wake him up only to be met with the worst possible sight she can imagine. Next to her family losing status, or the princess refusing to marry Sabo, or committing a faux pas. Well, the idea is there. Anyway, she'd only come in to check on her precious son to see if he was studying hard like a good little boy and what does she find? Her ungrateful brat, sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by practically all of his belongings, some food he somehow snatched from the kitchen, and a backpack of all things, like he was going to run away.
She just stares for a moment, unable to really process what's going on right in front of her, but when she does. Oh, when she does there's an indignant shriek loud enough to wake the dead. It's more than enough to make Sabo bolt upright from his spot on the floor. Still sleepy, he just sits for a moment, yawning with a hand rubbing at his eye. When his eyes come back into focus and Sabo can make out the figure of his mother standing in the door way, it's all he can do not to flinch away from her wide, horrified eyes and gaping mouth.
The pair just stare at each other for a while, but then Sabo opens his mouth to speak, to ask why his mother looks so angry, and then she's a blur of motion. She snatches Sabo up by his suspenders and puts her face right in his to whisper with all the contained fury of a woman protecting what's most important to her.
"Just what do you think you're doing." It's not a question, not even close, and even as young as he is Sabo couldn't miss that look in the woman's eyes. He stays silent, for better or worse, too terrified to do anything else.
She holds him there for a moment longer, but when it becomes clear neither of them is going to say anything, she drops him and stomps out of the room. Sabo can only sit there, even long after she's gone. He doesn't leave the house again for some time.
It takes him several months, but eventually life pretty much goes back to normal. He doesn't go back to the Gray Terminal again, and the idea of searching the forest has fled almost entirely. His mother's anger still rattles him sometimes, but now he's pretty sure it was just because she was worried. It must have been pretty obvious what he was planning, he thinks, and she didn't want him to get hurt. So he forgives her, and he does his best to be the son she seems to want. As long as he never has to see that look on her face again. As long as he doesn't make her worry.
Instead, he spends his time studying. It's not so bad, a lot of the subjects are really interesting, and even if the tutor can be kind of mean he does help Sabo learn faster. But right now he's working on something else, something more personal. Bent over his desk, Sabo is scribbling away at a piece of paper, smiling brightly at the thought of the final project.
Switching between black and a peachy skin color as needed, his tongue pokes out between his lips slightly in unconscious concentration. Slowly, carefully, he writes out "Dad" across the top of his drawing, making sure to get every line as steady as he can make it. When it's finished he leans back with a triumphant smile stretched wide across his face. Now to give it to his father.
Walking quickly down the hall, it saddens him that this is even necessary. He'd been hoping to have more time to work on his drawing before making this, but even Sabo has noticed that work has been taking a lot out of his father lately, so he thinks maybe now is a better time, even if his picture doesn't look as good as the paintings in the halls. His father's in his office, Sabo's sure, he always is this time of day.
When he gets there, he can hear the slam of a Den Den Mushi and a frustrated sigh from beyond the door. His wide smile has dropped by this point, but he quickly puts it back up in place of the concentrated frown creasing his forehead. His father needs him right now, so he's going to do his best to cheer him up.
Pushing the door open, Sabo holds up his drawing proudly. Even if it's not perfect, he's worked hard on this. He's sure his father will appreciate the effort.
"Dad," he exclaims, excited for his reaction, "look at this! I drew it!"
Sabo presents his father with the crude but heartfelt drawing of himself. For a moment his father just stands there, and Sabo begins to worry it isn't good enough. It's only a second though, and soon enough his father takes the drawing and turns it so he can look at it proper. Sabo can feel his grin grow even larger (if that's even possible), but then it falls and it takes everything he is not to tear up and start crying.
Outlook III just stares for a moment, his frustration and exhaustion too much for this unexpected turn of events. When his brain finally processes what he's looking at, he can't even work up the energy to get angry.
A harsh rip tears through the silence, followed by a quiet, noncommittal explanation. "I'm tired from work, Sabo. If you have time to draw a picture like this, than do some more studying in your room."
Sabo does not, in fact, go back to his room to study. Instead, he leaves the house for what must have been the first time months, too worked up and confused to stay, but still not willing to really leave. His eyes are fixed pointedly on the ground, and he can still feel some tears trying to well up and spill over, but he keeps walking, trying to work out what just happened before he tries to really make sense of it.
As he gets farther and farther away from his home, he finds he's not really sorting anything out, though perhaps that's better, clearing his head so he can get at it from a more rational point of view. So he keeps walking.
"Hey, you."
A boy dressed in purple with a redheaded bowl cut has stopped a few steps down the road. His hands are bent back from their firm position on his hips, elbows out, ugly sneer plastered on a face too young to wear such a thing. Sabo doesn't notice, keeps walking, doesn't even look up.
"I'm a child of the royal family. That means I'm related to the king. Carry me home on your back."
He says it like it should mean something, and maybe it does, but Sabo doesn't care, not right now. He keeps walking. He walks right past the other boy, not looking up.
Sabo keeps going, but the other boy can't stand for that. He's probably never been in this situation before. Turning after Sabo, angry now, he shouts, "Wait, you insolent filth."
Sabo is content to ignore him, even with those words, but the other boy runs up and spins him back around anyway, shouting in his ear, "Hey! Are you ignoring an order from royalty?"
Sabo cringes. He's not sure how to react to this, what would be the proper thing to do now, so he goes on instinct and shoves the other boy back with a cry of "What are you doing!"
It doesn't matter that this boy is royalty. Why should it matter? It's not like he's worth any more than Sabo is. So he turns back around and keeps walking, because something like this doesn't matter and he's still worried about earlier. Except the other boy still won't leave him alone, and suddenly he's barely dodging a knife that, while obviously decorative, still looks like it would hurt.
After the fight, the other boy is sporting a few new bruises, spilling tears like waterfalls and generally concerned for his aches and pains. Sabo comes out considerably worse, a nasty cut on his forehead, scrapes and bruises spotted over his visible skin from head toe. But he looks sadly at the ground, upset, understandably, but far from the balling mess the other boy is. His mother is there at least, to path him up and give him comfort and take him home where all he really wants to do is curl up in his bed and sleep off this entire day.
Another woman is fussing over the other boy, but Sabo isn't really paying attention, his thoughts pulled back into his own little head space for the time being. Yeah, he thinks, I just want to go home now.
It's his mother's concerned voice that pulls him back out, and he realizes she's asking about the fight. He answers truthfully, frown deepening. Yes, he did fight the other boy, and yeah, he is really hurt, but it's not his fault that he lost because the other boy had a knife. He tries to explain to her, tell her not to worry because it could have been a lot worse than it was, but he can't, because before he can open his mouth to continue there's a harsh sting in one of his cheeks, and it takes Sabo's brain a second to catch up with reality and process what just happened.
He's staring blindly at the scene in front of him. She slapped him. She slapped him and now she's fretting over that other boy. Why? He's her son, he's the one who's hurt, really hurt, but the only thing that seems to matter is the other boy crying his eyes out. Sabo bites his bottom lip. Sabo holds back the tears. Sabo's not so certain of that woman's love anymore.
He doesn't stay longer than he has to. He doesn't fret over what to take and what to leave behind. He just goes. The Grey Terminal is exactly as he remembers all those months ago, and immediately he sets off into the jungle surrounding Mt. Corvo because there's no reason not to. The thought of what might happen no longer frightens him, it's not like there's anyone who'd really miss him anyway.
Angry, hurt, and beyond done, Sabo just walks. He's not really sure where he's going, it's not like he's ever been here before, but it's not like he really cares either. The thoughts he knows are swirling around in his head are too much to deal with at the moment, so he doesn't. He blocks out all those thoughts and doubts and keeps going because it helps and it's not like anything really matters anyway. Not like he ever mattered.
He goes until he can't anymore, and whether it's by some amazing amount of luck or somehow the creatures that should be there don't want to be, he remains unbothered.
Hours later, he's still in the same spot, stomach rumbling, scowl still in place, but there's no movement. He's not over it, not yet. Maybe he never will be. Somehow, he thinks he doesn't want to be.
It's in that position, in that spot, that the first creature to come by in hours is another young boy. Definitely around Sabo's age, though it's hard to tell anything exactly. There's a pipe slung across his back and a mop of wavy black hair falling around his freckled face. Sabo doesn't notice him at first. He knows something's there, definitely, but it doesn't strike him as especially important for him to find out exactly what it is.
"Oi," the boy says, his already hard frown further creasing his forehead. "It's dangerous out here." He doesn't sound concerned, probably isn't, but he's here anyway, talking to Sabo, and by the slightly perplexed look accompanying the scowl, he's as confused by his actions as Sabo is.
When Sabo finally looks up, he doesn't know what he was expecting. Someone young, definitely, but not the hard, jaded eyes that made this boy look far older than he was supposed to be. Those eyes that Sabo realizes he has recently come to reflect.
They just stare at each other for a moment, the other boy not having anything else to say, Sabo just thinking about those eyes.
"My name is Sabo," he finally says.
The other boy's look turns skeptical for a moment, then, "Ace."
An outstretched hand is accepted, and both feel there's been something gained.
End feels a bit rushed to me, but this did take forever and I'm super lazy in general so this is the best you're getting out of me for now.
I had, like, half of this written in one day, and then school started and it took me a week and a half to do the other half.
The entire time I was writing this though I kept repeating "Noooo, Sabo" in my head over and over. Why do kids so fluffy have to have such sad backstories? T.T
Anyway, this is probably the last you'll be hearing from me for a while again. It probably doesn't help I'm so easily distracted. -_-;