Chapter 32
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.
Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.
Trafalgar Law is dreaming.
He knows this, though if asked to explain his knowledge he would be unable to do so. The state of his being unconscious is simply a fact like any other: Bepo's fur is incredibly soft, his magician is gone from him, and he is dreaming.
Facts.
The last thing he remembers is flopping onto the bed on his submarine late of an evening, having just finished consulting with Gable over their next course. Blackbeard is leading them a merry chase across the New World, each island more dangerous than the last. Law and the Heart Pirates have just spent a week on one such locale, inhabited by carnivorous plants and several villages of Haki-wielding cannibals bent on a feast of pirate meat. Two of Law's men are dead, a handful grievously injured. He and the other survivors of his crew had left the island the moment the Log Pose finally set. This is the first he has slept in four long and stressful days. His body aches, the morale of the men is at an all-time low, they are short on medical supplies, and it will be at least another few weeks before he finds out whether his bloody present to the Marine HQ has earned him the desired position of Shichibukai.
He has not seen, touched, or tasted his magician in almost a month.
Right at this moment, Law would very much like to say that he has slipped into such a deep sleep that even dreams cannot reach him. He has no use for fantasy while sleeping now that Kyra is lost to him. But, as seems to be the norm lately, Law is doomed not to get what he desires. He remembers hearing Kyra curse at unknown gods once; maybe he should try that.
The dream offers nothing familiar. He seems to be standing in a ramshackle cottage with a hard-packed dirt floor, one room with all the trappings of a home crammed into the small space. The fire pit in the center of the room is empty but for cold ashes. A long swath of fabric that appears to act as a door is fluttering softly in a warm breeze. The area is very clean, if slightly disorganized. There is a lump under the blankets on one of the pallets; the sound of steady breathing tells Law that the person is asleep.
The room smells faintly of blood.
The Surgeon of Death edges over to the area of this room set aside for rest, his cold eyes on the sleeping lump. It is small - probably a child. The bedding next to its little pallet is much longer, doubtlessly for a parent, though at the moment it is neatly made up and lacking an occupant. There are only two sleeping cots, which would indicate that one of the parents is either dead or otherwise gone for whatever mundane reason. Law crouches down next to the slumbering child and ponders this strange dream. The cottage is not familiar to him. Aside from the child, there is no one else present. In the time since his bond with Kyra was severed, Law has not been so cognizant on the rare occasions he slips deeply enough into unconsciousness to dream. He is unsure why this time is any different. What is so special about this dream?
The lump of blankets gives a sudden snort before an unruly head of black curls shoots out of it with a yelp. Law stays where he is; it's his dream, after all, surely nothing in here can hurt him. That would simply wake him. Tiny hands grasp the ebony locks and yank viciously, a high-pitched young voice rambling on in a strange language for a moment before the child stiffens and whirls to face him. Narrow grey eyes lock with wide emerald, and Law feels shock course through his system just as surely as if he had put his hand on a live wire.
He has seen those eyes before.
"Who're you?" the child demands suspiciously, flinging aside her covers and scrambling to her feet. She is clad in a shapeless, loose shift of bland grey fabric, legs bare from the knees down and feet rather dirty. Even standing atop the pallet with her fists planted on her hips, she is barely taller than Law's crouching form. "Mama says not to let strangers in."
It takes a moment before Law finds his voice, still stunned by his realization of who, exactly, the child might be. "My name is Trafalgar. Where is your mother?"
The little girl stares at him for a moment before looking around, only now seeming to notice that her mother is not present. "I dunno. How come you're here? I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Mama says so."
Law hesitates for a moment before he answers. His gut is screaming at him that this is not just some random dream. He does not yet know what exactly is going on, but he is extremely curious. He plans to get answers to the dozens of questions shooting through his mind, so for the moment he decides to play along. "Your mother... is her name Naomi?"
Eerily familiar green eyes stare into his, devoid of the sadness and shadows he is so accustomed to seeing there. "Yeah."
The Dark Doctor studies the child closely, cataloging the extreme thinness of her limbs and the too-sharp cheekbones even as he cautiously holds out a hand to her with what he hopes is a non-threatening smile. "Then you must be Kyra."
She looks from his face to his outstretched hand for a long moment before answering, her tone one of wariness and confusion as she places her tiny hand in his and gives a firm shake before yanking it away. "Yeah..."
"I am a friend of your mother's," Law lies smoothly, inwardly astonished that his guess had been correct. It would seem that he is talking to the child who will someday grow up to be his magician. She looks even younger than she had at the beginning of their acquaintance, when she was de-aged by the Supernova Jewelry Bonney. At that time she had looked rather like a short, too-thin eight-year-old. The kid in front of Law cannot possibly be older than five, six if one were generous.
Been killin' people since I was six. Killed my own father...
There are only two sleeping pallets.
"Can you tell me how old you are, Kyra?" Law inquires, settling down to sit cross-legged on the floor. The suspicious expression on the girl's face instantly vanishes in place of a wide smile missing several teeth.
"Six and a half! Mama says I'm almost a big girl now! How old are you, Mr. Traflager?"
Her face is so disgustingly cute and innocent.
Law is going to be absolutely merciless in his teasing once he gets his magician back.
The girl proceeds to tell him all about her most recent adventures on this island of Veneficus. He listens patiently with half an ear to her stories, his eyes wandering around the cottage as he stores pertinent information for later perusal. Little Kyra talks of playing in mountains of garbage as though speaking of a wonderful playground. She goes on at some length about how much fun she'd had yesterday hiding from someone called a Proeliator when he came to collect her for lessons. She proudly shows him a scar on her arm that she received after outperforming someone called Lihla because the other girl's father had been angry at Kyra's success.
"He's a mean, stinky old wrinkle-head! Mama says he's just mad 'cause I'm better at magic than Lihla. Mama says one day when I'm big and strong I can do whatever I want and the shaman won't be able to do nothin' about it! When I get bigger, I'm gonna turn Lihla into a toad and make the shaman's beard smell like farts! Then me and Mama are gonna go far away from here and we're not ever comin' back!"
She smiles at him again, her extreme youth emphasized by the gaps in her teeth.
She can't know that someday she will be permanently separated from her mother. She can't know that she will endure years of terrible abuse once she leaves these shores; that she will never see her mother again; that the three-inch-long ditch gouged into her arm is nothing compared to the horrific scars that will mar her flesh in the not-so-distant future. Kyra as Law knows her has experienced so many life-shattering disasters that 'innocence' is not a word that will ever be applicable to her again.
Law knows that by the age of six, Kyra had brought a child back to life, killed her father after years of watching him beat the shit out of her mother, and endured roughly a year as an apprentice under the abusive shaman. Listening to her six-year-old self babble on, he reaches yet another conclusion about his magician: she had grown up without a single friend in the world aside from that little shit of a cousin. All her tales consist of her getting into and out of trouble completely alone.
As soon as he comes to this realization, the world around him freezes. Kyra falls silent mid-word, her face and form stopped in the middle of an emphatic gesture.
Good, human. You are learning.
The Surgeon of Death is on his feet with a threatening scowl on his face as soon as the voice sounds in his ears. "What is this? Why have you shown me this?"
The Divine does not deign to show itself; it merely answers his question in the tone one might use when speaking to an imbecile. So that you may see what you have failed to comprehend. So that you will know how precious is the person whom you claim to love. Your knowledge is limited, Trafalgar Law. I shall rectify that problem.
In the next instant Law finds himself standing at the base of a gigantic mound of junk. Other mountains of trash can be seen in every direction, with shacks of various sizes and conditions built in-between - and in some cases on - the garbage. At present, it would seem that no one is around. There is no sound of children playing, no adult voices speaking back and forth. Though it would appear to be a beautiful cloudless day out, not even the sounds of wildlife can be heard.
The smell of blood is much heavier now.
A movement draws Law's gaze upward, showing a hunched figure sitting atop the junk pile with its back to the pirate. The figure's torso is wrapped in bandages, some of which are already beginning to seep crimson. Selecting his handholds carefully so as not to topple the stack of trash, Law ascends to the top for a closer look.
She is older now, at least ten years of age. She does not look around as he pulls himself up beside her and makes himself comfortable. She is wearing a pair of tattered trousers with a large hole in one knee, her bare feet hanging over the side of the pile while her hands grip the coarse fabric of the trousers in a white-knuckled grip. There is a new weight on her shoulders; where she was so overwhelmingly energetic at the age of six, this version of Kyra seems impossibly worn down.
They sit in silence for what seems a long time before Kyra sighs and says, "I didn't even do anything wrong. That old lady would have died if I hadn't helped, and that stupid Proeliator shouldn't have gotten away with blasting her like that. She's not even magic. Just some old crone who spilt her water bucket on the jerk's robes."
Law does not inquire as to why the girl seems so unsurprised to see him. "What happened?"
She shrugs, hissing as more red blotches instantly bloom upon her bandages. "Same old crap. I was finally done with my stupid lessons, so I was coming home and I saw this Proeliator picking on some old lady. His robes were wet. I think he bumped into her or something, I don't know. It doesn't matter."
Kyra stops talking for a long moment, sniffling slightly and rubbing a hand roughly over her eyes. "He threw a power ball at her. It hit her right in the chest, threw her back, she hit the wall really hard. She wasn't even breathing anymore. When I ran over to fix her, her head was turned at a funny angle. I think she broke her neck when she hit the wall. So I'm all nice and fix her neck and the bruises and everything, and as soon as the witch noticed me she started screaming about the abomination and then she slapped me! And the Proeliator slapped me too, he said a sordes doesn't have the right to undo something a Proeliator does! And then he took me back to the city center and I got fifty lashes from the shaman for interfering! I hate him! I hate it all!"
She is sobbing by this time, beating her small fists against her thighs in anger and frustration. Law does not try to offer her comfort; he is sure that to touch the girl now would be a very bad idea. He simply sits where he is and watches his little magician throw a well-deserved temper tantrum.
Her voice is thick with tears when she spits out, "I hate this stupid island! I hate these people! I hate magic! I got whipped for helping that stupid hag, and she called me a monster! I hate her! I hate everything!"
She grabs up a piece of garbage and hurls it away from her with a scream of rage. Law watches in silence as wisps of black energy begin to bleed out of her, swaying like snakes through the air and ripping up small chunks of the junk mountain on which they sit. The sight of them serves only to enrage the child further, as she resorts to jumping to her feet and trying to strike the proof of her own powers while angry tears bathe her cheeks.
"I hate you! I hate you! You didn't come back! You left just like Jeri did, you asshole! I thought you were my friend and you just disappeared, you left me like Jeri did and Papa and everybody else! Let's all just abandon the freak, who cares if it hurts her, she's just a monster! Nobody cares, nobody! I'm always alone! I hate you! I HATE YOU, ASSHOLE! GO AWAY! I HATE YOU!"
The unnerving voice coming from the child sends chills down Law's spine, but he does not move to flee as she so obviously expects him to. He sits calmly atop the trash heap even as little Kyra's powers rip through it like a maelstrom. When it finally topples, Law jumps to the ground and waits until the debris settles before going to the child's side and sitting once again. He keeps his face perfectly calm even as she stares at him in a fury that has her hollow cheeks flushing red. He doesn't move when the kid lunges at him, beating her little fists against his torso while screaming at him to leave.
Her magic doesn't so much as brush against him once.
After a while Law reaches out and catches the girl's wrists in his hands, pulling her down and twisting her until she is slumped in his lap with her back pressed against his chest. She is sobbing in earnest now, the bandages soiled with large splotches of blood. The pain must be excruciating, but the surgeon does not think that is why his little magician weeps.
"Take me with you! Please, take me with you this time, please I'll be good! Please! Don't leave me here again! I have to get out of here, I have to get Mama away from here, I'll go anywhere, do anything you want, anything, just please -!"
Law says nothing. He does not try to sooth her tears or make false promises. He sits lost in the piles of junk for as long as it takes for the child to cry herself to sleep, not once uttering a sound.
Only when her breath has evened out does the Surgeon of Death open his mouth and whisper, "Enough."
The girl in his lap vanishes. His surroundings change to the familiarity of his room aboard his submarine, lit only by the moonlight filtering in from the windows. The Divine stands near the door, wings pressed close to its back and arms crossed over its massive chest.
"Well, human? Do you begin to understand?"
Sitting upright, Law slowly tears his eyes from where moments ago a young girl sobbed in his lap to fix the immortal with a look that would cause the fiercest of men to cower in fear. "Understand what?"
What? That Kyra's childhood had been hell? That she has suffered? Does the Divine truly think for even a moment that Law does not already know this? He has known since her first months with him, since reading Navy files detailing her time as Merrick's lab rat. He's seen every scar on every inch of her body. He's seen the shadows in her eyes that would not be there had her life before they met contained an abundance of rainbows and sunshine. Law is very well aware of the pain his magician has suffered. Why does this damned monster think he needs to live through it with her?
Said monster cocks its head at the surgeon, its expression brooding. "We were mistaken, human. I was mistaken. But I shall not rectify this mishap yet. I believe that what you are doing is the correct path. You grow closer to your target with every day that passes, while the little one is relatively safe with her new companions. Soon enough she will find you again; it is my hope that by that time you will have killed the one you seek. He is a dangerous mortal, human. You will need to exercise extreme caution against him. I do not know if you will be able to defeat him without my aid. We shall see when the time comes."
Law eyes the Divine, momentarily thrown by its almost polite manner. Is it actually trying to give him advice? "What exactly were we mistaken about, Mr. Divine? I'm afraid you need to elaborate."
Ebony feathers rustle slightly as the immortal shifts against the wall. "She is miserable. I did not foresee the depths of her feelings for you. Had I possessed a deeper understanding... I do not think I would have sent her away. I regret it. Perhaps the choice is already made, though why she would choose the likes of you over what I have to offer is beyond my comprehension."
Law's eyes narrow at the creature's words. "The choice?"
The Divine has mentioned a choice before, when explaining how it used Law for its own purposes to separate him from his magician. It had claimed that the distance and the eradication of the soul bond could possibly be beneficial, that Kyra would have a 'clearer head' with which to decide.
Apparently that plan has backfired.
It continues talking as though the pirate had never uttered a word. "If you are to be blessed with her love, I shall endeavor to tolerate your continued existence for her sake. I shall come to your aid if need be - for her. But I will extract my payment from you, Trafalgar Law. You will know the pain my little one has suffered. You will relive her memories as though they are happening now, in the present. You will not be seen by any but her. You will not be capable of aiding her in any way other than what help you may provide with your company alone. You will relive the worst moments of her life, and you will be helpless to do anything for her as she begs for your aid."
Impossibly green eyes bore into grey. "That will be your punishment, human, for taking her from me. Watching her suffer in your dreams will be your penance."
In the next instant it disappears, leaving Law alone in his room with his thoughts and questions.
Kyra hides in the shadows thrown across the deck of the Thousand Sunny by the setting sun, deliberating.
Well, actually, stalling would be the proper word for what she is doing. Deliberating would suggest that she has yet to reach a decision as to her next course of action. The witch came to such a decision hours ago. She knows exactly what she has to do. The problem is that she needs to ask a certain someone for a favor. Kyra is loath to do so, not fond of the idea of putting herself in someone's debt - especially this guy. He's a jackass. He's so arrogant she doesn't see how his ego hasn't choked him yet. He's a pirate from a crew that is naturally a rival to her own. Asking him for help almost seems like a betrayal to Law and her boys, even though she's only doing so in an effort to get back to them.
There's no help for it. As much as it grates on her pride, Kyra is going to have to do it.
She steps out of the shadows and calls out, "Hey, Ace!"
There is a flash of flames out of the corner of her eye. Kyra turns and heads in that direction, meeting Fire Fist Ace over by the lion figurehead where he is chatting with his brother. In the near month since she was dumped on this ship, Kyra has rarely seen one of the D's without the other. They seem to move and think as one, meshing like a well-oiled machine for all that one tends to fall asleep at the most random of times and the other is hyperactive to the point of extreme annoyance on the part of those around him. Actually, it kind of reminds her of herself and Law, except not because... well…
Ew.
"What's up, Kyra?" Ace asks now, grinning easily at her. Kyra has noticed that despite the fact that most of his brothers-in-arms avoid Kyra like the plague, Ace is always very calm around her. Many is the time that the man has dozed off in her proximity, whether at meals or mid-conversation with someone else. Kyra wonders if it has something to do with the fact that their souls have touched. The men of Law's crew whom she returned from the dead all had the same manner of ease around her after their resurrections. It is a strange but hardly unwelcome side-effect of this most cherished of her gifts.
Kyra blows out an exasperated breath, annoyed with the question she must now ask this man. "I need to talk to Marco. Can you arrange a private audience with His Majesty?"
Before Ace can reply, Straw Hat gives a loud snort and elbows his brother in the ribs with a grin.
"Heh, she wants a private audience," the young scoundrel snickers, clasping his hands together and bringing them up under his chin. He bats his eyelashes in Kyra's direction and coos at her in a disturbing manner. "Wanna borrow some of Nami's clothes, Kyra? You could look pretty for your private audience with Marco."
Kyra takes a moment to debate the pros and cons of flinging the rubber idiot into the sea. Deciding that she does not quite wish to drown him today, she instead waves her hand at him in a dismissive fashion. The yellow sash Luffy wears tied around his waist instantly comes free and wraps itself tightly around his throat, choking his laughter into gagging silence.
"So was that a yes or a no, Fire Fist?" she asks nonchalantly as Luffy struggles to free himself from the killer clothing. Ace swallows audibly before quickly nodding his head. He grabs his choking brother by the elbow and hauls the boy after him as he flees to the skies with a burst of fire, his excellent control keeping the flames from barbecuing Luffy in the process. Kyra allows the magic possessing Luffy's sash to fade lest she asphyxiate the brat.
Moments later, a magnificent bird of blue and gold flames lands on the deck to her right. As soon as its feet touch the flat surface, the beautiful creature transforms into the much-less-pleasing visage of Marco. His face dons his habitually sleepy expression, a constant ruse that has cost many a cocky fool their lives. Kyra has no fear of him - she could tear him to pieces at a moment's notice, phoenix healing be damned - but she does possess something of a wary respect for the man. After the past month of his occasional company, it is easy to understand how such a person became Edward Newgate's right-hand man.
"Ace said you wanted to talk to me, yoi." Marco smirks lazily while moving to the railing, leaning against it casually with the air of a man who owns the world. "I'm flattered by your attentions. The boys had their doubts, but I knew you'd warm up to me eventually, yoi."
Has Kyra mentioned that she really doesn't like this arrogant jerk?
A mental command encases the two of them in a protective, sound-proof sphere. Marco does not flinch as Kyra's shield forces him slightly away from the railing, does not cower at the reality of being trapped in this relatively small space with one such as her. He just folds his arms over his chest and quirks an impossibly arched eyebrow at her.
"Wanting privacy already? I usually don't go this fast, but if you want, I suggest making the dome something other than transparent, yoi. I'm not really in to the whole public displays of affection thing."
Kyra ignores his words as though they were never spoken. "I need a favor."
The seriousness of her tone is apparently sufficient for Marco to drop the act. He studies her in silence for a moment before saying, "Okay. Ask, then."
"I need someone to help me find the Shichibukai Donquixote Doflamingo. I have some things to talk to him about. I can protect whoever goes, they won't be harmed, and I'll make sure that even if something goes wrong they'll be sent back here whether I return or not."
"And you wanted my permission to take one of my boys, yoi." This is not a question, merely a confirmation of fact. Kyra nods in the affirmative. "Why not ask one of Straw Hat's people? You have to know they'd all jump at the promise of a fight."
"I don't want to fight. Not unless it's unavoidable. I just want to talk. I need to know if you can tell me where he is. That's it. If you can, I want to know if you'll act as a guide for my powers so I can get to him. If you can't, I'd appreciate the names of anybody you can think of who can put me in contact with him."
"Why?"
Kyra eyes Marco in slight annoyance. "Why what?"
"Why do you want to talk to Doflamingo? I can get you his location; we've had our eyes on all of the remaining Shichibukai ever since Marineford. But if I'm going with you to talk to him, I'd like to know what you'll be talking about."
"I have a favor to ask of him. What's it matter to you? I won't let him or his buddies hurt you. You'll be in no danger. You're going to hear it all anyway if you're going with me. Can't you just find out where he is so we can get going?"
Marco is suddenly standing very, very close to her. Kyra rears back in shock, a hand coming up to push him away even as her magic lashes out at him from all sides of the barrier surrounding them. Her wrist is caught in a rough grip, which pulls her back towards the phoenix until they stand chest-to-chest.
"Let go of me." It is not a request, but a demand. Phoenix Marco is about two seconds away from having his limbs ripped off by the powers currently boiling angrily under her skin. If he doesn't let go very quickly, the likelihood of him walking away from this conversation alive is slim to none - and Kyra wants nothing to do with handling his soul as she brings the bastard back to life.
He listens, miraculously, releasing her arm and stepping away. His bored expression never flickers, even as his Devil Fruit heals the various bleeding gashes now adorning his flesh. "How are you going to have a conversation with a guy like Donquixote Doflamingo if you can't stand to have a man near you like that, yoi? Do you know anything about Joker? That," he gestures between them with one hand, "was mild compared to how he'll probably act when you two meet. He fancies himself a lady's man, and it's not going to go well for anyone involved if you try to gut the guy five seconds after entering his presence, yoi. Maybe you should just tell me what this favor you want from him is and I do what I can on your behalf."
Kyra glares at him, annoyed that he did that just to make a point. A month has been more than enough time for all the pirates she's currently stuck with to learn that she is not a touchy-feely person. He could have just said all that without the freaking demonstration. She reins in the furious power and molds it to her skin, holding one hand palm out to Marco when she's done. "Try that again."
He doesn't even hesitate, doesn't even seem to consider the possible danger of his actions. He simply steps over and grasps her hand in his.
Or at least tries to. The several inches of impenetrable space around her skin makes physical contact impossible.
Marco smirks slightly as she tells him, "I can take care of myself just fine, birdy. So could you just go talk to your spies already? I want to get this over with sometime today."
The older man pulls his hand back to ruffle what little orange hair still rests atop his oddly shaped head with a huff of laughter. "So impatient. You should really learn to get more enjoyment out of life, yoi. You never know when you might breathe your last, especially in our profession. Give me half an hour and I'll see what I can dig up."
While Marco is occupied elsewhere, Kyra retreats to the roof of the crow's nest to watch the sun finish its descent over the horizon.
So this will be the night she finally meets Law's old boss.
They spoke about him only once. She had been with Law's crew for more than a year at that point, bonded with Law for most of that time. It had seemed a coincidental question, her initial inquiry as to the origin of the pronged Jolly Roger that her captain had recently tattooed upon her skin. How was she supposed to know Law absolutely hated his old commander's guts? She's never gotten the details as to why, since she'd never brought up the subject again after that first time. She can't help but wonder just what the hell Doflamingo did to Law, to bring that kind of burning fury to her calm captain's eyes with just a mention of him.
Law had told her before he forcefully closed the subject that Doflamingo is the man who owned that auction house in Saoboady that tried to sell her.
She must remember to have a little talk with the man about just why it wouldn't be a good thing for something like that to happen to her again.
Ever.
When the phoenix comes back to collect her, Kyra notices that he has a rather wry smirk on his face. Her paranoia instantly flares to life; why is he looking at her like that? What's he thinking?
"What?" she demands as soon as he is close enough to hear her. Marco just gives a shake of his head, extending his hand towards her. Kyra eyes him for a moment, wanting badly to know what that look is about and fairly certain the phoenix is hiding something from her that she is not going to like. Grudgingly, she accepts his hand and loosens the leash on her powers, deciding that she will trust him for the moment if it means getting what she wants. The pair of them are soon engulfed in a cloud of blackness which hides the world from view for a short period before clearing to show a complete change of scenery.
They are no longer standing on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, out in the middle of the sea with no land in sight. Their new location looks like a tropical resort. And the people surrounding them are most certainly not members of the Straw Hat or Whitebeard pirates.
Plus half of them are naked. Mustn't forget that little detail. Not to mention what most are currently engaged in.
'Ew' doesn't seem to cover it this time.
"What the fuck, Marco." Kyra's voice is much too flat for her words to be taken as a question. Marco simply shrugs as she drops his hand in disgust, eyeing the crowd around them that is currently staring at the two strangers who have just magically appeared in their midst.
"Doflamingo enjoys his pleasures."
"So you couldn't have given me a head's up that we'd be coming to a brothel? It would have been nice to know so I could have avoided the group orgy, here." She flaps her fingers at the gawking crowd, in case the man hasn't yet processed what exactly he has landed them in.
"Sorry," is the reply, given in such an unrepentant tone that only an idiot of Monkey D. Luffy's caliber would believe it. "I don't see why you'd care anyway. It's not exactly a secret that you've been sleeping with Straw Hat, yoi."
Asshole!
"It's not my fault the brat drags me to his freakin' hammock every night!" Kyra snaps, bristling at the suggestion in Marco's words. "The guy's made out of rubber - you try prying him off without killing him, once he gets his hands on you. Apparently he's decided that I make the world's best teddy bear. It's not like that, you jerk!"
Marco just smirks at her.
Huffing, Kyra turns away from her irritating companion and grabs the closest person by the ear, afraid to reach any lower when most of these people seem to have gone native. "You. Tell me where to find Joker or I'll force-feed you your own guts."
In record time the witch and the phoenix are escorted to a more private part of the brothel, ushered into a dark room smelling strongly of sickly sweet smoke and sweat. Kyra frowns in distaste as she peers into the poorly lit chamber, ears picking up the sounds of several people breathing and fidgeting before her eyes adjust enough for her to see properly.
Her tone is one of derision when she speaks. "With all the shit I've heard about you, I didn't take you for a chicken-shit coward who has to hide with his whores when a monster comes to visit."
There is a long moment of silence. Then someone bursts out laughing.
"Fufufufufu! I should have expected Trafalgar's favorite squeeze to be a wild one! Come in, little witch. Make yourself comfortable!"
Kyra's frown deepens. "Hey Marco, can you give me some light? Since our host is apparently an asshole?"
Marco obliges, and the room descends into chaos as soon as his blue-gold flames light up the chamber.
Gunfire and foolish war cries split the air as men begin throwing themselves at Kyra. They are dead before they can lay hands on her, their blood spraying the walls as the Demon Witch flickers around amongst them. Part of her brain registers that the room is full of Marines rather than the whores she expected even as she puts her hand through a particularly brawny bastard's chest cavity. What are Marines doing here? That deep laughter is ringing out again, men are cursing, and a woman's voice screams out, "Fall back! Fools! Fall back at once!"
Kyra takes the chance to retreat back to Marco, who has been trapped by the door in a semi-dome of her powers since they walked into the room. He is standing there as calm as you please, hands in his pockets with arms and torso emitting continuous tongues of flames. She spares him a brief glance to confirm that he is unharmed before focusing once more on the room at large.
She's made a bit of a mess: blood and corpses litter the floor from her counter-offensive. The living Marines are all massed across from her, brandishing weapons and yelling nonsense about freaks. A man smoking three cigars at once catches her eye. He is standing at the front of the crowd, a strange-looking pole of some sort in one hand and his eyes fixed on Kyra. At his side stands the only other woman in the room, presumably the one who had ordered the Marines back moments before. She wields a sword and quite the impressive scowl on her bespectacled face. Both of these people look vaguely familiar.
Off to one side sits a man whom Kyra recognizes instantly as the Shichibukai Doflamingo, Law's former commander and the prick that almost sold her in his stupid auction house. The fluffy pink feather coat is something of a giveaway. He sports a massive grin, lounging on a couch with his arms spread across the back and looking completely at ease in spite of the butchered man at his feet or the blood splashed across his face.
"I forgot for a moment that you're one of the World Government's little bitches," Kyra comments nonchalantly, wiggling her hands to shake some of the gore off. "I guess I should have made an appointment before showing up. I like Marines about as much as Law likes you."
Doflamingo belts out a laugh at this, the same bellow of mirth that has been ringing off and on since Kyra entered the room. "That reminds me! How is dear little Trafalgar these days? I haven't seen the boy in ages! It was pretty rude of him not to introduce us, Demon Witch! And here I think of the punk as a cute little brother!"
He leans forward, removing his arms from the back of the couch and resting them across his knees instead. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of purple sunglasses, yet Kyra can feel them sliding over her skin like slime. "You're not half bad looking, you know. Never could fault Trafalgar for taste. And you've got one hell of a left hook, fufufufu!"
Here he nudges the corpse at his feet, grinning like a maniac. The body's back has a hole in it just the size of Kyra's fist; its heart must be one of several currently scattered around the floor.
"Isn't this convenient, though? My buddies here were just demanding that I give them a way to contact the newest Shichibukai to deliver the good news of his promotion when his lovely little witch shows up out of nowhere. Is Trafalgar here with you, pretty little monster?"
Kyra's gaze meanders over to the Marines again, her magic jumping in agitation just under the leash of her control. "No. Who the fuck are they?"
The female Marine opens her mouth, but before she can make a vitriolic reply a burly soldier directly behind her yells out an answer of his own.
"We're the G-5 Marines, pirate scum! Under the direct command of Vice-Admiral Smoker and Captain Tashigi here! You'd better show some respect if you know what's good for -!"
Kyra makes a circular motion with one hand. The shouting Marine's head rotates a full three hundred and sixty degrees, snapping his neck and spinal cord. The man with three cigars yanks his lady companion out of the way as the new corpse collapses to the floor.
"Fuck you. What do you shits want with Law?" Kyra's voice is ice-cold and as deadly as a naked blade. The muscular morons compromising the majority of the men across from her gape open-mouthed at their newly-dead comrade for a long moment. Guns held in grips gone lax with shock are instantly whipped up to point in Kyra's direction.
"That's enough already!" the cigar man barks out, sounding exasperated. "Do not engage without my orders! Stand down, idiots! She can kill you all without breaking a sweat, just stay out of it!"
"Nice to know at least one of you has a brain," Kyra remarks snidely, letting a little of her magic bleed into her eyes to turn them black. The reaction of the soldiers is rather entertaining, though their lack of discipline is beyond pathetic. "Maybe you can answer my question, Smokestack. I'll repeat it for you: what do you shits want with Law?"
The Marine regards her with all the warmth of an iceberg, teeth clenched hard around his multiple cigars. "As Doflamingo said, woman. Your captain has been granted the title of Shichibukai. Where is he?"
What? But Law had told her before sending her away that the position of Shichibukai wasn't of interest to him. And didn't Merrick say that they'd both be made into Warlords once he had Blackbeard's head in his possession? "That doesn't make any sense. Last I heard, my captain didn't care to be a government dog."
"Well, maybe you should ask him why he sent a hundred Marine hearts to HQ, Demon Witch!" the Marine woman snaps in reply. "Tell us where he is! Vice-Admiral Smoker has better things to do with his time than play messenger to a filthy pirate!"
Cigar man, who Kyra guesses is Vice-Admiral Smoker, silences the woman with a glance before addressing Kyra again. "Where's your captain, pirate?"
Kyra doesn't answer, too busy digesting what she's just been told. One hundred Marine hearts. Law took hearts out of the cold locker on the sub and sent them to the Marines? Law is a Shichibukai now? What is that crazy bastard doing?
"Law, you son of a bitch," she mutters to herself, wishing more than ever that she could get back to her captain.
"H-hey! Vice-Admiral Smoker asked you a question!"
"I don't give a shit, asshole!" Kyra snaps in reply, running frustrated hands through her hair. "Just shut up already, I didn't come here to argue with fucking Marines." She turns her glare back to the chuckling Doflamingo, annoyance growing by the second. "I need to talk to you in private."
"Oh, really?" the large man snickers, grin widening to proportions that should only be possible for Luffy with his rubber body. "What's so important that you would seek me out for a private conversation, hmm? Usually when gorgeous women come looking for me, it's because they want to experience a taste of heaven. While I'm completely open to such a tryst -"
He bellows with laughter as he jumps away from the couch, which is shredding itself in a violent fashion as Kyra seethes in fury.
"- you don't seem the type!"
"I need a favor," the sorceress spits out, glaring daggers at the feather-bedecked pirate. He comes towards her in a bow-legged waddle, his much taller frame looming over her as he bends so that their noses nearly touch.
"A favor?" Doflamingo repeats, his voice very soft. "What favor could the Demon Witch want from me, and what payment would you be willing to offer?"
"The favor is none of their business," Kyra retorts, flapping one hand in the direction of the gawking Marines. "And we can discuss possible payment later. Can we get a little privacy, please?"
The continuous chuckle rolling from that man is really starting to get on her nerves. He straightens up slightly and prances to the door, smirking at Marco while the phoenix merely steps out of his way. The blue-gold flames die as the Shichibukai flings the portal open, bathing the room with light from the hallway and sauntering out of sight with a gesture for Kyra to follow. She does so, sidestepping bodies and pausing in front of Marco for just a moment. "Will you stay here?"
One arched eyebrow rises. "I thought I was going to get to hear what you wanted to ask, yoi."
"I lied," is the flat reply as she walks out, pulling the door shut behind her and sealing it with her powers. She isn't worried about Marco; a bunch of idiots like that won't be able to lay a finger on him. Doflamingo is disappearing up a set of stairs at the end of the hall. She follows him in silence, not hesitating when he gestures her into what appears to be a mix of a bedroom and a lounge. He closes the door on them and waltzes over to yet another luxurious couch, settling in and making himself comfortable.
"So, now that we're alone..." Doflamingo grins over at her, obviously enjoying himself. "What was that favor, little witch?"
"Do you know of the Rear-Admiral Rafe Merrick?" Kyra inquires, staying near the doorway and leaning her back against the richly papered walls. She is banking on his affirmative reply. Doflamingo is an underworld broker of immense reputation, a fiend, and a Shichibukai with past ties to the Heart Pirates. She is staking a lot on the fact that Merrick would have taken the first chance to get a foothold with this man, one step closer to his target.
"Fufufufu, oh yes, the newest Rear-Admiral. We've crossed paths a time or two. Why do you ask?"
Kyra pauses for just a moment, considering her plans one last time. What she is thinking to do is extremely dangerous. There is a great chance that it will blow up in her face. Law, the crew, the Straw Hats, possibly the Whitebeard leftovers - all of them might suffer if this doesn't go the way she hopes. And now with Law apparently the newest Warlord, that is another complication to factor in.
But she does not see another way. Trafalgar cannot defeat someone like Blackbeard as he is, his fighting style so heavily reliant on the Devil Fruit powers that will be useless against Teach. Merrick will kill him if the two cross swords again. And after a month of careful observation, she has her doubts about Straw Hat and his little friends finding success against the Yonkou either. She is a sentimental fool; she cares for those idiots just enough not to want them to die so recklessly. This is her only chance. If this fails, she will give herself up so that Law might stay safe.
This is the only way.
"I need you to get me on his ship. Without him knowing it."
She will have to reclaim her heart on her own.
A/N: Please review.