She was late.
The sun had gone down an hour and a half ago. Law sat on the deck of the submarine, his patience wearing thin, his book boring, and his coffee cold.
At least the ship was clean. The tuckered out Samei was fast asleep in his bed in the crew's dormitory, as Samei had spent a good portion of today removing barnacles and cleaning the ship. Law had spent most of his time playing with a present gifted by Quilo. Quilo had not taken kindly to Samei being jumped, especially since Samei was his responsibility. So he'd grabbed one of the men who had jumped Samei, and brought him to Law's operating theater. The others he murdered in their beds.
This meant Law had at least gotten to spend most of the day earlier torturing the greasy man. It seemed that the man had very low levels of loyalty in the face of Law's games and spilled a lot of valuable information. Finally, Law had some intel on the local mob.
It seems that Minnow had not fought a low-level thug. Rather, he'd managed to punch the mob boss son's personal bodyguard. It was not enough of a blow to warrant more than a retaliation, but their idea of a retaliation was to target as many of Law's crew members as possible. They hadn't gotten the opportunity, unfortunately, and the mob boss's son was getting rather frustrated with the fact that he hadn't been able to land a decisive hit on Law's crew, nor scare them into submission. Which meant that he was targeting all citizens who were helping Law's crew. Which explained why shop keepers and bartenders were no longer thrilled with their presence.
Judging by the man that he had slowly tortured to death all afternoon, Law wasn't worried about his crew surviving retaliation. He didn't particularly like that they were targeting innocent civilians, but it also was not his main concern. And the man had not recognized the sketch of Ms. M either, which meant that it was possible his hunch about her possible mafia ties could be wrong.
Could be.
But he didn't know for sure.
And there was the fact that she was late. She hadn't been late before.
And the mafia was targeting civilians.
If anyone had figured out that she was working for them somehow… It was possible that any number of people could have leaked that information out. From there, the mafia might scare her away from fixing his ship. Law could fix that.
Or they could kill her and then Law would be sunk. No amount of killing would fix a dead mechanic.
He sighed, rubbing his temples and standing up. He was going to take a walk around the docks in this dilapidated old warehouse, and maybe after he was done she would magically appear with a reasonable excuse, and his worrying would be for nothing.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Law froze. Inwardly, he cursed himself for leaving his beloved sword safely stowed away in his office. Instead, he gripped the scalpel in his hand, using his other to start creating a room. He squinted in the dim light of the warehouse for the source of the noise until he saw a glow from the other end of his ship.
There, on the tail end of his ship, was his mechanic. He dropped the room and felt his eyebrows twitching in annoyance. The bitch really needed to stop sneaking up on him. Returning his scalpel to his pocket, he took this opportunity to watch her work.
She was hanging from the ceiling in a sling, touching the metal on the tail of the Tang. Law blinked, as he realized that the metal was bright red.
She was molding it. With her hands.
He blinked again, and then realized he must have been imagining it. There was the sound of a hammer going, and no one could touch red hot metal without a devil fruit. Bepo had already reported that she was swimming on that first night, so there was no way that she had eaten one.
Law approached, just close enough that she could hear him without him having to shout at her.
"You're late."
The hammering stopped.
"… I got caught up."
Law raised an eyebrow. No swearing? Law scanned her body, taking in every inch. Something seemed off. There was a stiffness to her movements, and she was sitting slightly off-center, not as comfortable as two nights ago.
"… Uh-huh. Couri made your dinner again. Bepo will join you in a couple of hours."
She nodded without looking back at him, and the hammering began again. Law sighed.
"Ms. M, I'm not about to tell you to do your job, but your dinner has already been out for several hours and I'm not one to waste food."
The hammering stopped again. From this distance he could see that her shoulders were drooped, but he couldn't tell much more.
Something was seriously wrong. He thought quickly, carefully crafting his words for a moment before he spoke. She scared if he was too kind, and scared if he was too cruel. It was irritating that he had walk on eggshells, but if he was lucky… Damnit, he already knew she was worth twice her weight in gold.
Law sighed loudly. "Look, I don't know what's bothering you, and I honestly don't give a shit. So long as me and mine are safe, and the job gets done, I have no complaints. In two more days you'll get your money and we'll part ways."
He paused for a moment, assessing her. Her shoulders were still drooped. He spoke again, trying to keep his tone even. "Having said that, I am a doctor. If you are ill, say so. You're my responsibility for two more days, after all."
Her shoulders stiffened. "I'm no one's goddamned responsibility."
Hm. That contradicted the image Law had built up around this young woman.
"That's nice and all, but your favoring your left shoulder. Since your left handed, that's a problem."
She turned. The tight curls that were rarely ever tamed seemed to hide her face a little, but Law could clearly see the shadow of a bruise on her cheek. His eyes narrowed.
"… Come down and eat, and I'll put some balm on that bruise. Doctor's orders."
With that, Law turned on his heels and stalked towards his infirmary. She'd been hurt, and hurt bad. The question was, who hurt her?
If it was her abuser, then there was nothing for Law to do. She'd either escape her abuser with them at the end of the week or remain behind and be stuck in the cycle until she died. However, if it had been the mob, then Law would not be allowing her to leave again, even if he had to kidnap her tonight. She was too goddamn valuable to risk.
Then again, if she was somehow involved with the mob, then she could have been hit as a test of loyalty. Maybe she had taken his side, and they'd hit her. Maybe they had gotten information out of her – guilt would certainly explain the stiff shoulders.
On his way back out, he grabbed a den den mushi and his nodachi. Juggling those and a first-aid kit, he opened the door to the deck of the sub.
There she was, sitting cross legged in front of a plate of salmon and rice. She eyed the sword, but Law ignored her suspicions. Clearly, she trusted him enough to follow instructions.
He sat down, placing the sword and den den mushi next to him before opening the first aid kit. He put on some rubber gloves as he began speaking to her.
"I'm assuming that bruise on your cheek is not your only one."
She said nothing, only looking in plain confusing at the first aid kit. Law glanced at it, before eyeing her again, dropping his now-gloved hands into his lap.
"Don't tell me, you've never seen a first-aid kit?"
She glared at him, but didn't say anything.
"I'll assume that means yes." He pulled out the balm he had for bruises, a rather neat recipe he'd helped to develop before he was expelled from university for using human test subjects. He leaned forward to examine the bruise before rubbing a little onto the bruise.
"This will sting, but it'll be mostly healed by morning. If we put more on it tomorrow, it'll be gone in two days."
She didn't say anything, so Law continued. "Don't get yourself into trouble. You're too goddamned valuable to die in the streets."
She snorted. "Only for two more days."
Law smirked. "Well that depends. As my ships mechanic, you'd hold the permanent position of being too goddamned valuable to die in the streets, instead of temporarily."
Law could tell wheels were turning in her head again, but not in which way. This was just one of those moments that she was too hard to read.
He closed the lid for the balm, placing it back in the kit. He reached out to grab her arm, and she jerked reflexively out of his touch. Law paused for a moment, before glaring lightly at her.
"May I remind you, Ms. M, that I am a doctor."
"And a fucking murderer."
"I prefer to keep fucking and murdering separate."
She glared at him, but he grabbed her arm anyway. There was a wince of pain from her, and Law deftly used his fingers to assess the movements in the joint.
"I'm going to pull your overalls off just enough to expose your shou—"
That was all he got out before she wrenched from his grip, managing to jump backwards in an instant and somehow land behind the railing, hanging on to the sub with her right arm. Law held still for a moment, before dropping his chin onto his hand.
"Ah, Ms. M. It's rather hard to treat your shoulder from all the way over there."
There was no glare this time, rather the gleam of terror in her eyes, like a wild animal cornered into a cage. Her chest was heaving, and her pupils dilated.
Law hadn't expected this. Him touching her wasn't the trigger… removing clothes was? Was it sexual abuse she suffered, like he feared?
No. It couldn't be. This was all kinds of wrong. This woman was faster than he was, stealthier, far stronger than the average man and yet she was clearly beaten up by someone.
He sighed heavily. "Fine, have it your way. It's clear you've torn something in your shoulder, there might even be a hairline fracture that will only get worse. I'd recommend not lifting with it, but I can't give you a proper diagnosis from here." He stood up. "I'll get you some ice for it while you eat. Try not to hurt yourself for the next two days. Use the den den mushi to contact me if you get beaten again."
With that, Law picked up his nodachi and returned to the sub. He needed to leave her alone for a little while if he was to win her back. Grabbing some ice from the kitchen first, Law left it out the front door for her before he returned to his office. He was damned tired of this cat and mouse game with her.
Grabbing another den den mushi, he called Quilo.
"Yes, Cap'n?"
"Tomorrow, I need you to follow our mechanic. It seems someone decided to take their frustrations out on her."
The was a moment of silence before Quilo asked, "You think it was the mob?"
Law hesitated for a moment. "… I'm not sure. She's not telling. I can't even tell the extent of her injuries."
Quilo whistled. "You just had to pick the hard one, didn't'cha?"
Law grinned. "I like puzzles almost as much as I hate surprises."
"I guess I'll cancel the surprise threeway I planned for your birthday. I'll get you a mother-fucking puzzle instead."
Law chuckled. "She leaves at first light usually. Good luck."
With that, Law hung up on his weapons master, and the crossed his arms. He needed to review the facts.
She was around eighteen years old. She was clearly underfed. Her master had died years ago. She spooked easily, was a master mechanic of the highest caliber, picked up five-hundred pound plates easily, snuck up on both him and Bepo despite their observation haki… It was as if she could suppress her presence. If she had that level of control, it might explain the strength she exhibited. But again, if she was a haki master, then what the hell could've possibly hurt her.
Law shook his head. It was possible he was over-thinking it. She could be subconsciously suppressing her presence. Yeah, that made sense. After all, Shachi had had observational haki for years before he ever became consciously aware of it.
Why didn't she leave, then? The port here was hardly inactive. There were plenty of ships docking weekly. Even if she couldn't afford passage, she was clever and stealthy enough to sneak on to any one of those ships. Then again, she was potentially in an abusive relationship with someone, and abused people were rarely rational…
Law eyes narrowed. No one on this island knew her. It was possible that she came here recently, not that she lived here as he initially assumed. Certainly her hair, skin, and eyes did not match the native population. Most of those here were white, with fair hair and light-colored eyes, not brown, brown, and brown with a dash of freckles. Altogether, she looked a little out of place.
And then there was her reactions to him treating her. It was as if she'd never been to a doctor before. She seemed to be completely unfamiliar with procedure. Even stranger was her belief that she wasn't anyone's responsibility. Was the abuser a parent? That was possible.
Another thought circled Law's head for a moment – if she clearly had a day job, why did she need the money? The price she asked for was rather exorbitant. While Law was not one to complain after seeing the quality it came with, that amount was enough to purchase passage on ships for several years and live quite comfortably while doing so. Hell, it was even enough to...
Law practically fell into his sofa as a realization slammed into him.
What if she wasn't working for the mafia?
Joker had weapons made here. Top class weapons. The grunt had blathered a lot about it before Law finally allowed the man to die. And the mafia oversaw the manufacturing of those weapons. Weapons that could only be made by someone with skills that were beyond normal mechanical engineering.
Joker. He had his hands in a lot of businesses. Anything illicit or illegal, you were sure to find him involved somehow. Drugs, weapons, slaves…
It was possible that she wasn't working for the mafia.
It was possible that she was owned by the mafia.