"Now how did you manage that? You. Penguin. Get into a fight with four guys?"

"Seven. I already beat three of them before you came around."

"O…kay… And?"

"Never mind that. I still don't know where that little shadow is." Penguin grumbled with his confession. "At least we know he's here. His men will probably tell him about us when they wake up."

"If the bar owner ever lets them go." Shachi laughed. "Good thing we hightailed it outta there before they found– Ow."

The first mate glanced at his crewmate at the sudden interjection, and smirk when he found him rubbing his midsection. "Some support you are. Getting more injured than me."

"Hey, hey. I was distraction, remember? And I took out the leader, you know."

"As if even Bepo wouldn't pass out if you dropped a kick on him from a roof."

"Yeah, so? I still beat him. So how's your head?"

"I've been better."

"Ha! This day just gets weirder and weirder. First this island, and then this mission. Speaking of, I was at the town hall earlier. It had this tower. Turret, whatever. Anyway, I was there, and then these guys came along…"

As Shachi chattered on, a soft voice whispered in Penguin's ears. "My, my. Little Law's crew made such a mess," it went. A cold chuckle followed after.

"…I couldn't get back up, so I just went off…"

The Heart Pirates first mate looked around with a start. His friend continued to talk up a storm, unmindful of his abrupt stop. On either side of Penguin were only the dark display windows of closed-up shops. His reflection stared back at him with wide, searching eyes.

+.+

The men were on edge, Seiuchi noted as he watched from the second floor window of a tavern. Across the street, Lord Edmund's men were flanked at every fifty odd feet around their employer's estate. Shotguns poised on their shoulders, they snapped at any passerby who dared look through the fencing.

The barkeep told him they were usually a jumpy bunch, always expecting trouble from their rival house; but today, they were just plain mean.

Whether it was because the eighty million beli bounty head Trafalgar Law was going to pay them a visit that day or some other reason, the Heart Pirates pilot didn't know. Not that he wanted to bank on any guesses, really.

If the Lady Fate would have them be preparing for his captain's arrival, then so be it; her plans were not for him to question. And he hadn't seen them bring in anything suspicious that they might use against the Surgeon of Death, so he didn't have much reason to worry. There was nothing they could throw at him that would probably hurt the doctor anyway. Seiuchi continued to play with the small polished opal hanging from his bracelet, whispering small tributes to the Lady Luck. It was almost time.

A large group of men in suits with purple ties flooded out of the estate's gates. One by one, they approached the guards, accepted their guns and traded places with them. The pirate waited another half an hour before making his move. As he checked the papers about the Lord Edmund's mansion one last time, he squeezed his opal trinket between his fingers for good luck.

Down the street, the Heart pirate skirted the estate till the back gate, keeping his head down and his bandanna pulled low. The guards were all new and the old ones nowhere in sight, just as he had hoped; the replacements had grown restless in their watch by that time and were bullying the passing locals from their posts.

Seiuchi turned up the collar of his borrowed clothes in an attempt to further cover his face. The clothes fit him comfortably, thank the Lady Luck. They were a drab enough combination for their owners not to recognize them, too. Hopefully, drab enough for the guards not to pick him out in a crowd. Being one of the newer members of the crew, he needed all the time he could get for all the sneaking around. Which was probably why the captain gave him one of the easier jobs.

His first survey earlier that day had been going well until he reached the back gate; things were just as they were in the papers. But the gate was definitely newer and more fortified than what was written on the file given to his captain. At a loss for what to do, he asked around. In a long awkward interview, the shop owner closest to the gate told him a scuffle with House Marius did in the old one. The pirate would have dug around some more if his boiler suit hadn't caught the guard's attention; he had very nearly been chased away. Seiuchi decided to wait out the current batch of guards and return on the next.

Though to be perfectly honest, he didn't know what he was supposed to do now that he had. He had never done this sort of thing before, so he had no idea what he had to do when things didn't go as planned. He just had a nagging feeling that he shouldn't go back to the ship without doing something about his discovery.

Seiuchi settled himself outside a restaurant close to the gate, scrutinizing it. But in the glaring mid afternoon light, it was hard to keep his eyes from wandering; all the yellow was hurting his eyes, too.

He turned his sight into the shade of the restaurant, scowling while they adjusted. He was embarrassed to find that there was someone in his direct line of sight. As the stranger adjusted the brooch on his red cravat, however, the Heart pirate was relieved that the man had not noticed. The latter was occupied with the small man before him, who was probably the first pale man Seiuchi had seen that day. Foreign too, judging from his clothes. With all the black on him, he was probably baking under all the layers.

Seiuchi squeezed the other ornament of his bracelet, a quartz crystal, and thanked the Lady Fate for giving him more sense. He returned to his watch on the gate, memorizing its façade.

+.+

Three hundred forty-eight. Three hundred forty-nine. Three hundred fifty.

Kokkyoki Kitsune spun round twice before halting his slight form to face the sea. His boot met the pavement with a quiet tap. He pushed his sunglasses further up the bride of his nose, then pointed to the horizon.

"Seventeen," he said, reading the number on the crosshairs etched on his sunglasses. The din of the busy road nearby filled the air in the short span of time before he corrected himself. "Fourteen."

The Heart Pirates logsman drew a notebook from his pocket and threw it in the air. He spun round again, pulling a pen out of his hat as he caught the small book. Pages rustled with each turn of a page, and after it followed a sharp point scratching against paper. Kitsune finished his note taking with a flourish and snapped the book closed; he returned his writing paraphernalia to their places.

Fifty steps later, the showy performance was repeated.

There was actually no real need for the cartographic survey, as the town was rich enough to have a good map of itself, but it was Kitsune's hobby. The tempo of his light and even footsteps, creaking of rusty wagon axles under a heavy load (already he had heard one particularly grating creak that ended in a splintery crash), and even the distant screeching of an angry mother calling after unruly children – he loved listening to them. During these escapades, he fine-tuned his ears to pick out their notes.

And improved his cartography skills, of course. He didn't have Bepo's impeccable memory and sense of direction, so he had much to make up for. That didn't stop him from basking in the world's musical cacophony whenever he could. He would have more time to immerse himself in it by tomorrow. When the mission was over and they had but to wait for their log pose to tune in on the island's imperceptible humming.

After he found a suitable map for their records, maybe. And checked how his field measurements fared against the actual thing. If they were too far off, he might have to hear from the navigator first. He would content himself with the deep thrum of the submarine's intricate machinery and Bepo's low drone until he was allowed to go.

"Oi, Kitsu. Din' think ah'd findja here."

At the familiar voice, Kitsune crossed a leg over the other, set his left hand on his right hip and veered his head to the voice's owner. His free hand held his shades in place as, with his head angled down, he watched Inuwashi approach.

"Ishi." The speaker extended his left limbs to his crewmate's direction, hand pointing and foot touching the ground with only his toes. "You're lost. The main street–" He drew circles in the air with his pointing hand then veered a finger to the east. "Is that way."

"Nah, am dun." He newcomer lifted his many bags of shopping for his crewmate to see. "Ran unto sum M'rines though. So am jus' hidin' here for a bit."

Kitsune assumed a normal stance. With deliberate slowness, he hovered a hand over the Jolly Roger on his chest. "Hidden," he said. "Like a note in a score."

"Ya' make as much sense as a win'er fly onna hunne' pie."

"As do you."

Inuwashi laughed. "So, are ya' dun with…" He looked around, lips pursed and eyes twinkling. "Ya' know?"

"That finale. Deserved no encores." But of course. The captain had said they could even do without checking on House Marius. Just in case, he was sent anyway.

"Hey, ah know tha' word."

"Goddamn those pirates! I'll kill them when I find them."

The pair of Heart Pirates stared at each other, unmoving, Kitsune with his perpetual poker face and Inuwashi with his wide-eyed, purse-lipped expression. The voice seemed to be just beyond the intersection they stood next to; on their other side, a long stretch of road was flanked by tall, bare walls. The nearest possible refuge was a door too far into the alley, and already the voices chorusing promises of death on all pirates were upon them.

In another moment, Kitsune shrugged off the top of his boiler suit and tied it by its sleeves around his waist. His visor-sporting companion was brushing his long fringe over his face tattoo. Hopefully, with the cook being in plain clothes, their crew's uniform would not be recognized.

Just as the Heart pirates took off their hats, a six men marched into the side street. Their heavy footfalls were careless and haphazard, their muttering harsh and grunts of pain aplenty. The pirates parted to let them pass. Kitsune leaned against the wall, hugging an arm across his waist as the fingers of his other hand pushed against the bridge of his eyewear.

"I hope the boss does them in."

"Yeah, he'll get back at them for us."

"Idiots. That's our job."

"Yeah, tonight. Tonight we'll get back at them."

"We'll do them in. And get the cash from the boss's boss, too."

"Quiet."

Kitsune was on the brink of pinpointing the accent in their way of speaking when the group – voices, footfalls and all – came to an abrupt stop. The largest of the men glared straight at him, and the rest following one after the other.

"What're you staring at, boy?" The man who silenced his fellows looked at him from head to toe.

The addressed man looked around him; all his escape routes were blocked, though probably more by mistake than by design.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

The Heart pirate struck a pose. "Nothing, sir."

"Weirdo," one choked at his sudden jerk. "Must be a loony," another sneered.

"Um, 'scuse me, surs. Beggin' ya' pah'dun."

The group turned again, this time to the young man behind them. Between the ghostly pale boy they first confronted and this other one, whose tanned skin and russet-brown hair made him appear like the locals, they had very nearly dismissed the latter's presence. "Me an' muh buddy here were jus' talkin'. Dun mean t' be a bother."

The leader looked from one to the other with a disbelieving glare. It made Kitsune queasy; the lie was too obvious. But for the first time that day, he was thankful for the unforgiving heat. Pink splotches were appearing on his exposed flesh in the unnatural way his melanin-deprived skin responded to the sun.

"We were just going," he said, adjusting his shades. It was as obvious as his partner's excuse, but it would serve his purpose. "My mother told me not to stay out too long."

When Inuwashi said nothing to back him up, he continued. "My skin." Silence still. "It's sensitive." His voice, if possible, was flatter than his usual monotone.

The group leader scowled down at him, unimpressed. Kitsune straightened himself to as tall he could manage and stepped forward, but it didn't threaten the larger man any more than a yapping puppy would have.

"Aw yeah…" Inuwashi finally spoke up. "Tha' skin thing ya' were bourn with. Can' have 'ya cookin' lak a labsta' now." He even laughed, amused by his own slow register.

The leader grimaced at their antics and just walked away, his men following at his heels. "I'd mind my own business if I were you boys," he said over his shoulder. "Next time I see your faces where they don't belong…"

The last of the group still facing them cracked their knuckles. Two of them even pointed a machete and a club at them.

Kitsune relaxed when his immediate area was cleared, then spun to the center of the road. Inuwashi's face lit up as his crewmate paused. He quickly set his shopping down and jumped next to the other pirate to mirror his stance. With a tap to each shoulder, then a snap of their fingers, they pointed to the group.

"Will do," the Heart pirates logsman said, letting his shades slip a fraction before pushing them back up. His partner did the same though he had nothing on his face.

The group grimaced again and the shuffling of their footwear continued brushing noisily against the pavement, even faster than before. Inuwashi returned to his purchases with a laugh. Kitsune watched the retreating group until they disappeared behind one of the nondescript doors along the alley. The door slammed close, its woody crash echoing for a short while after. The group's watcher returned his white flat cap on his head.

"Let's head back," he told his companion as he made a superfluous gesture to the submarine's general direction.

Inuwashi looked to the westering sun over the sea, strapping back on his own orange visor. "Yeah, let's. This 'ere fish'll cook at here 'fore it even meets a skillet."

+.+

"C'mon, Bepo. It's not so bad." A snigger. "See? There's plenty of shade out here now."

Bepo peered out from the quarterdeck to look at what his crewmate was talking about. Michi was at the center of the deck, where a table, a seat and a tent-like umbrella had been affixed. Under the table were the mechanic's tools and many cans of paint.

"Plenty of shade." He extended his long arms to both side for effect; his fingers breached the area of the cover nonetheless. The polar bear watched him down a glass of water after. "Anyway, found a chip in the paint job."

If he could sigh and snigger at the same time, Bepo bet he would've done so then. Michi didn't like working alone; he usually forgot what he was doing in the first place. Bepo would help him if he could, but repainting needed more hand dexterity than he was capable. From chipping off paint, to the actual painting and down to the setting – he would just waste supplies. Zatou would probably hurt him if he did.

"You could keep watch while I fix it," Michi's tone cut into the bear's glum thoughts.

The navigator perked up at the offer and ventured out into the deck. His crewmate was in the process of typing up the braided ends of his yellow and orange chullo's side flaps over his head. By the time Bepo reached the umbrella's shade, the man had tied the braids into a bow.

"Just like Zatou, eh?" The Heart Pirates mechanic pointed to his hat and laughed. He straightened his back and squinted. "Our fresh water supply is evaporating in this heat. What a waste. This isn't in the budget." The speaker broke into a fit of snickers. "So carefree that guy."

Bepo grinned. "You forgot to say fools."

"Oh yeah."

The mechanic refilled his glass and set it in front of the now-seated navigator. He gathered his painting things and bid, "I'll be at the rudder. Shouldn't take too long."

Bepo grunted in reply and slumped over the table, touching his nose to the cool glass. He wondered if Michi really did mean that his task would be quick or if it would be a long one. He didn't want to be in the heat any longer than was necessary.

But he knew he shouldn't complain; his job was easy compared to everyone else at the town. The captain had said he was too conspicuous, and with a Marine base in such a small island, it was probably for the best that they not tempt fate. They could test their luck when the stakes weren't so high tomorrow. Bepo hoped it would a cool day, overcast maybe, since that was probably the best he could ask for in a summer island.

The polar bear sniffed the warm sea air and sighed. The low wind pressure of the surrounding rocky seas was making it hard for him to sense the weather. At least the congested smell of dead fish, sweat, and salt that met them at port had cleared now. His nose could already pick out an odd few people nearby, with his instincts supplying their general direction. From a few boats away, he could smell a new catch of fish being hauled in; its fresh smell overpowered the musty fishy scent that had long saturated the wharf's wooden planks.

Just as he was enjoying the scents around him, the stench of paint attacked his senses. Bepo whined, covering his nose. Its sheer unpleasantness had the polar bear running to the bow of their ship, the farthest he could get from the smell.

Though he had been exposed to it for as long as the Heart Pirates had owned a steel ship, the navigator had never gotten used to it. It handicapped his sense of smell for hours after exposure. But since it couldn't be helped, he would just have to stay under the sun until he grew tolerant of the odor emanating from the stern.

In the meantime, the Heart pirate looked over the town. His crewmates were there somewhere, doing fine most probably, but he was a little worried about Seiuchi. He hadn't gone to as many raids planned by the captain as the rest of the crew; he hoped the man would manage.

He also wondered what Kitsune, his only crewmate who took orders from him, could possibly be doing at that moment. Bepo looked to the western side; his protégé had been sent there, getting a good look at Lord Marius mansion and his men's activity. Knowing him, he was probably already finished and was gallivanting around town. He hoped the logsman would at least find a place to procure a map from.

A familiar scent registered in the bear's senses over the paint: it was one of grease, ink and mint. Bepo looked to the alleyway from which it came, and soon enough, the Heart Pirates engineer-treasurer strode onto the port. His usual scowl was just a tired crease on his forehead. His eyes didn't lash at him with their usual sting either when he hailed him.

Zatou returned a quick wave and lengthened his strides. As he neared in his approach, Bepo sensed an unfamiliar scent also moving in the same direction as his crewmate: one of steel, apprehension and anxiety. Danger signals went off in the navigator's head. He turned his eyes back to the alley his crewmate had come from.

A dark figure peeked out from beyond the corner.

Zatou's surprised face momentarily registered in Bepo's mind before he landed on the port's creaky planking. He rolled forward to break his jump's landing, then kicked off the ground to propel himself to the alleyway. A yelp reached his ears, and then light footfalls that faded in intensity with each step. Bepo reached the alley in time to see the dark figure already halfway down it. The Heart pirate gave chase.

Up the town they ran, between buildings, and at one point, in and out of a house. Bepo's prey left obstacles behind him whenever he could in an attempt to hinder his chaser, but the polar bear easily leapt over the barricades. This man's capture was important, the pirate felt it in his gut; he was going to catch him to figure out why.

As the chase progressed, it became obvious to Bepo that his target was as much a stranger to the area as he was. At intersections, he would skid to a stop and look wildly about before making his turns. With each stop the chaser closed the gap a little more, and when his target glanced over his shoulder, the latter grew more and more panicked.

Fifteen feet shy of him now, Bepo could see that he was a large man, much larger than the locals. His pale skin was a dark pink from the sun and the running. He yelped when he saw how close the pirate had gotten; he didn't even stop to decide on his next turn. He just dove to the right. Bepo was at his tail in a moment, determined to catch him before the next turn.

But the alleyway was empty. The Heart pirate rushed down it, eyes wide and panting hard. There were neither doors, windows nor anything to hide behind in the empty space; the walls were too high to climb. There was just no sign of his prey. The Heart pirate followed the person's scent until he came upon a puddle of inky black fluid – oil from the smell of it. His scent disappeared there, just like its owner.

Later, he would swear, that as he stood there in disbelief, he still heard the man's heavy breathing echoing in the narrow space.

A/N: Two more chapters in just two more days... I hope I could make it. The next chapter will be a very short one, so hopefully, it should be out soon.