Finding One's Self
XXX
Chapter 2 – Roots
Slavery is a concept I am all too familiar with. In another life, when I was but a boy, my parents sold me into slavery to sustain their own lives. I don't blame them, not really; it was the pragmatic thing to do, and had I been kept with them I would have perished in the Toxic-Assault by Kusa the following year. Ironically, my loss of liberty saved my life and was my route to the power that the higher echelons of Taki coveted so very much.
Those who had been sold were often bought by the government, and I was no exception. For a time I was used as free labour – Exploding-tag production, weapon smelting; necessary acts for a country at war which were far more easily achieved with a workforce that could not demand rights. After a while, when the tide had vastly turned against Taki, in their desperation they lost all ethics and began to experiment on slaves with forbidden techniques cooked up in a laboratory hidden deep within the waterfall caves.
Jiongu was implanted into my body – nought but a little seed that they force fed me. It grew in my stomach; threads piercing my flesh and sending pain searing throughout my body like no one could believe. The agony I felt was virtually indescribable, and ever since all pain has been somewhat trivial in comparison. It settled within, and the thread became part of my being. It healed me when I was injured, it attacked whatever threatened me, and it moved as I willed it. And with this new weapon at my disposal I was let loose on the oncoming hordes sent by our neighbours to erase us from the Elemental Nations.
A monster is what I became, and for the honour of my nation I accepted this role. The battlefield was my training ground, and as I was burned, slashed, torn and skewered by the forces of Konoha, Kumo and more – I grew stronger as I assimilated the techniques I witnessed into my repertoire. Stealing the hearts of the strongest was an added bonus – the more soldiers they threw at me the more powerful I became, and thus they threw more powerful soldiers they threw in response: a cyclical process which would only ever end in my complete domination of the enemy.
With each victory I granted my home, I was paid a tidy sum: money that I was allowed to call my own.
This was where my appreciation for money truly came from, I think. In fighting for money I was fighting for my freedom, and thusly fighting for myself.
One of the things I was often asked by Hidan, whenever he was lucid enough, went along the lines of why I bothered to pursue money if I couldn't ever spend it properly. I was a wanted criminal despised by the world, with more enemies than I could count: what use was money to me really if I could never really use it?
I never answered properly, for in truth I do not know why. Money, to me, is connected with freedom and power – the men who bought me, who ordered me into battle, and who reaped the rewards of my successes: they all were wealthier than I could imagine back then. They weren't strong enough to protect themselves at the end; but that was the point. They had power – so much power – and no ability to protect it.
On the other hand I had the ability to protect whatever I had, but the money I earned was next to nothing. An equilibrium had to be achieved – and after my home turned upon me the perfect opportunity had arose. I could seek funds to empower myself, and protect them in turn.
Why does the dragon covet gold? For no reason but to bask in its glow.
XXX
The Elegant Triumph was a glorious vessel indeed, befitting even the most hedonistic royalty. It reeked of misspent funds, more so than the scent of blood which Kakuzu doubted would ever leave the deck. From the handcrafted figurehead, which on closer inspection revealed that every dragon scale had been shaded properly and cut to equilateral length, to the mighty mast which depicted an old-fashioned knight marching up a spiral staircase towards a great red dragon. Unfortunately, despite the luxury it presented, Kakuzu knew he would have to scuttle the ship before the sun-set. Recalling the warning the Head-Slaver had issued in regards to attacking a Tenryubito – it would be foolish to leave any evidence which may call foul-play into suspicion regarding his death. Before he took action – he would of course strip the ship of all its finery, like any honest citizen would.
Giving his form a casual flex, eliciting several cracks from his shoulder and neck bones, he began to descend into the ship's lower deck. The wood was varnished so finely it looked fresher than any structure had the right to be – and was obviously painstakingly maintained by the crew on a regular basis. It was unlikely the crew had partook in any of the Saint's actions willingly, however their unwavering loyalty even in the face of true depravity spoke volumes of their character. While Kakuzu derived no pleasure from their demise – killing them being a necessity to ensure his current anonymity – he didn't feel any regret either.
Within the first cabin was a bedroom – quite clearly belonging to the late Saint. It was a massive chamber, with a wide greater-than-king-size bed that took up the majority of the room, shaped like a heart and coloured a seizure inducing fuchsia. It was impeccably maintained, and the silly suits which were lined around the walls – each covered by the head-bubble which had burst so easily as Kakuzu's grip tore through it – we obviously ironed daily, despite looking as though they were rarely worn at all. Casually flicking through the cabinets in the chest of drawers, which contained mostly exotic perfumes and face creams, Kakuzu found nothing of real note save a phial of what looked to be liquid silver.
With relatively little strain the flesh around Kakuzu's hand deformed and reshaped – the skin around the palm turning a pitch black revealing a tattoo with the Kanji for storage. Body storage seals were underused in the elemental nations – being easy to activate unconsciously as chakra was channelled throughout the body, and even easier to damage from mere scarring which could render their contents lost forever, however for one such as Kakuzu whose flesh was perpetually changing it was easy enough to create one and hide it within. With a small flare of chakra the phial disappeared within his palm, as did the seal itself.
This was the only major find for the bulk of his exploration – it seemed that the credit of Saint Rosé existed in his family vaults as opposed to his own wallet: a trait which seemed to be consistent in all royals, at least those who Kakuzu had encountered. Arrogance and cowardice also seemed inherent in the royal gene.
It wasn't until he reached the lowest depths of the ship till he encountered something of note – however it was not treasure of any kind. Seven women were chained by the ankle to beds of their own – the beds were modest, and no cabinets or chests existed for any material goods whatsoever. They all looked vastly different from one another, in size, skin tone and hair colour. Indeed, aside from their worn and haggard appearance, their only similarity lay in their perplexed looks at Kakuzu's appearance – looks which quickly morphed into horror when the bloody that coated his body was noticed. "W-Who are you? What do you want with us?" a short redhead asked, the vibrato in her tone blatantly revealing the fear she was poorly trying to hide.
Kakuzu considered his actions carefully. In the computer of his brain he weighed the weight of the consequences that would result from his choice: killing these women, or letting them go free. If he killed them his secret would be safe and he would have plenty of time to establish himself well before he gained notice of anyone in the world who may be troublesome… However killing them wouldn't feel right – he had nothing material to gain from their deaths, and no catharsis to be exerted from killing innocents. This thought surprised him – indeed, had he been back in the elemental nations he would have slaughtered them without a second thought.
But having considered his actions carefully, and coming to the realisation that even considering sparing them was something exceptional for him, Kakuzu made a rare decision – and chose to take a gamble. "Perhaps the results will be interesting," he murmured to himself, in a tone the women could not hear, "I am no one of note." He spoke louder this time, so they could hear, and before any of them could blink threads had shot out of his chest and pierced the iron around their ankles, breaking the shackles. "Take one of the lifeboats and find land. Don't stay on that island too long, though." He turned to continue his exploration, "And tell no one of what happened today. Or of your experiences on this ship."
He didn't glance back at them, even as they began to leave as fast as their weakened legs could carry them. "T-Thank you!" one called after him, "Other slaves are held in the galley!" he filed that fact away, but chose not to acknowledge her statement. Any connection he formed with them on a personal basis would be dangerous, for himself and for them.
Much like he predicted, there was nothing outstanding deeper in – the wealth of The Elegant Triumph indeed seemed to lie only in its architecture and its former owner, both of which were useless to him.
Before reaching the final cabin the stench of sweat and sick filled his nostrils. It was obvious it was the slave-quarters, even before he opened the door. This room was large, even larger than the bedroom of Saint Rosé, but its size was undermined by the significant populous of the room – several hundred people seemed to be crammed inside, each shackled at the ankles. They stared with menace and curiosity as he entered, and the hubbub that had filled the room quietened down to dead silence. "Leave. And tell no one of this day." He stepped aside from the door, allowing exit. Despite having been told this, none moved.
"But… Saint Rosé?"
"Dead. Along with his crew. Leave." He said the last was so forcefully people suddenly scrambled to their feet, and began to shuffle out of the slave quarters in a massive throng. Some whispered a faint, "Bless you," while others merely stared at him with distrust.
Kakuzu again pondered what consequences his actions would have. In all likelihood one of the slaves would talk too loudly around someone important, and people would be on the lookout for a dark-skinned man with strange eyes and stitches covering his body: the odds of this likelihood varied directly with the number of slaves he freed. As such it was a near certainty he would be a suspect in the near future.
Catharsis over, and no real material wealth found, he would have to find somewhere to take shelter and make plans for how to produce a steady income to get him started before he could do anything too dramatic. One of the things he had admired most about the Leader of Akatsuki, the elusive Pein whom he had never seen in person, was his unrelenting patience. His plans, so meticulously crafted, had taken the span of decades to carry out – and he had started on very low funds which were only really bolstered by Kakuzu's presence in the group as treasurer. With those funds the Akatsuki spy network and bounty hunter organisation was founded; an underground group which never seemed to catch the attention of the Ninja Villages.
Establishing an organised band of bounty hunters was difficult, but manageable if you knew how. And Kakuzu did know how, being the most notorious bounty hunter alive. Perhaps that was the direction this world would take him in – it was a very profitable venture which would have served him well if not for the Akatsuki syphoning he grudgingly permitted.
He paused his musings momentarily, and regarded the chamber again – it was virtually empty. The only person remaining was naught but a child – a little girl who stood defiantly in front of him, staring up with bold violet eyes. Long pink tresses fell from her head, which was covered by a battered green Foraging cap that seemed far, far older than the girl herself; perhaps belonging to her parents wherever they may be. Like most of the other, now former slaves, she was covered in dirt – a large black smudge marked her nose and covered her quite clearly uncared-for clothes. "Beat it, kid."
She stared up fervently, not tearing away from his gaze. He took note that her tiny fists were clenched, and she was shaking. "Did you kill him?" Kakuzu abruptly turned and began to stride off, brain still buzzing with thought. This had been a waste of time – he'd have been better sinking the ship outright. "Hey! Don't walk away! Oi!" the little girl began to traipse after him, a skip in her step necessary to keep up with his long strides.
Ignoring her for the most part, Kakuzu continued to think about his plans. First he'd need an atlas, then perhaps a region map: he'd find another island to start his operations, it was too dangerous to return to the slave-market island. If he wanted to set up an organisation reminiscent of the Akatsuki Bounty Hunters he'd need to get start-up capital before anything: quite a lot. For the meantime, he supposed, taking up bounties himself would be the wisest move – just enough to get him a tidy sum, but not enough so the authorities took much of a notice of him.
"Would you listen to me?!" the girl was still bouncing around him, visibly frustrated by his silence. Rage building up, she final gave a hard kick to his shin – before yelling in pain as she stubbed her toe on his rock hard skin. "Owowow… That really hurt!" as he continued to stride, unperturbed, she limped-and-hopped after him, "W-Wait up!"
As they reached the deck, she let out a gasp. He supposed her only memories of this deck were of its pristine, unblemished form that had been painstakingly cared for by the late crew – in stark contrast the bloodied, gunpowder marked wood must have been quite a shock. "You did kill them." She murmured to herself, loud enough for Kakuzu to hear, "All by yourself?"
"Why so surprised?" taking his gambles in stride, he decided to engage the brat if only to humour her. If he was lucky, she may let slip some interesting information about this new world he now inhabited.
"I'm not surprised, not really." She said, in a clipped tone – suitable for a petulant girl; not quite suitable for a dirt-covered former-slave. "I am shocked. People don't attack Tenryubito, unless they want to die." Her eyes took a somewhat wistful look, her own words quite clearly striking a chord. Her parents, perhaps? "So why did you?"
"Motivation is such a dreary subject. When people are killed, the first thing onlookers always ask is: 'why'?" he offered her a slight grin, "I killed him and his guards because I felt like killing them. They were powerless to stop me, and so I ended them."
If his response scared her, she did a very good job of hiding her fear. "Why didn't you sink the ship?"
"And let any treasures it may hold go to waste? That type of carelessness would be foolishness bordering on madness. However for a rich man he travelled decidedly light," he shrugged, "As to why I haven't sunk it yet, that will change momentarily. If you don't want to get wet you may want to leave now." He cast his gaze off towards the stern of the ship, "Then again – it seems your companions took all the lifeboats. You should have left when I told you too."
"Where are you going to go?"
Raising a dark eyebrow, he returned his gaze to her. Her hands were on her small hips, and a cocky-grin was on her face, "Why do you ask?"
"Take me with you!" she said it with such conviction and confidence it took him quite by surprise. She couldn't have been any older than 9, but clearly had the confidence of a woman far older and wiser than she had any right to be. It was funny how hardship accelerated the age and wisdom of the innocent – and yet foolishness never seemed to dull.
"No." his gaze was hard, tempered from over a century of practice. At a glance the bravest warriors had ran – to be slain from behind moments after lowering their guard. Even with this her resolve seemed not to waver, and just as before she stared him down. "My path is no place for a child still wet behind the ears. The blood I leave in my wake will end up drowning you," he stretches his arm out, gesturing at the bloodied remains of the crew and the Saint, "I killed these men for sport. I could have let any of them live, if I chose. I could have let them return to their families. Instead I chose to kill them for nothing more than my own pleasure."
Her shaking became more visible as his words became harsher, even as his tone remained as even as ever, "I plan on killing more people than just these men. Hundreds, perhaps thousands more. Do you know why?" he knelt down so he was at her level, locking her violet eyes with his unearthly red-and-green, "Because I desire wealth and fortune. And all who stand in in my path are obstacles which I shall remove with relish. I enjoy killing, brat. Now tell me," he paused, observing the sweat on her face and the quavering of her lip, "Are you afraid of me?"
Gulping visibly and clenching her eyes shut, she began to quake. Thinking the matter dealt with he started to cast his mind to future plans – the necessity of a ship, for instance. It was unfortunate that this one would have to be destroyed – it was far, far too obvious and recognisable.
"No." echoing his own previous statement, his blinked in surprise as she cut him from his thoughts. Her defiant look had returned, perhaps with even more conviction than before. "I'm not afraid."
In those eyes he saw something deeper than a dirty little girl with matted-pink hair: he saw the shadow of a young blonde ninja, whose strength far belied his appearance and mannerisms. Strength which Kakuzu had thought originally to be weakness, but somehow had managed to overcome his years of experience and wisdom and soundly defeat him beyond repair. In those eyes was something Kakuzu lacked fundamentally: something that scared him and something he did not understand.
"What is it you seek that you would travel with a monster?"
Considering his question for a moment, the girl then answered, "I need strength."
The grin broke out again on Kakuzu's face, "I knew a child like you once. A boy, not much older than you are now. I underestimated him, and it proved to be the greatest mistake of my life." He cocked his head to the side, "I seem to have become reckless recently, and have made more gambles in the one day than I did in the space of decades. Maybe this spark you have – the thing that that boy had… Perhaps it can be of use to me." He placed a large hand over the forging cap and ruffled her hair, "The brightest diamonds first must be cut from rough. In you I see a gem begging to be cut."
He rose to his full height. "What is your name, brat?"
Adjusting her hat slightly so it was no longer covering her face she answered, "Bonney. Jewellery D. Bonney."
"Bonney, is it?" he muttered, with a sly grin, "Very well, Little-Bonney. I shall let you join me on my path." With a large hand he hoisted her up and slung her under his arm, carrying her little form with ease to vocal protest. "Remember: if you become an obstacle you will be removed. The same as any other." With his free arm he held his hand in front of his torso, and flickered through some hand seals, "Raiton: Teki Tsuihō." Arm filling with a yellow energy, Kakuzu thrust his fist downwards onto the deck – resulting in a network of cracks forming, before the entirety of the hull caved in as shocking power burst out through every gap in the hull.
From within the wreckage the forms of Kakuzu and Bonney emerged, the former running across the ocean surface as if it were a solid surface at an inhuman speed. As they sped away, the wreckage of the once great Elegant Triumph began to sink beneath the waves, dragon-figurehead letting loose a stream of bubbles as it fell deep beneath the surface of the ocean, into the darkness bellow.
XXX
Having found an island not too far to the west, the unlikely pair had settled in an inn for the night – using coins Kakuzu had plucked from the bodies of the crew. With fascination he watched the child, who was no more than a slip of a girl who seemed to have no meat on her bones at all, devoured her fourth whole rack of lamb – only pausing between racks to wash the meat down with water from the tankard that rested by her side. "Delish-us!" she managed to sound out from under a mouthful of mutton, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Careful with that appetite," he murmured tonelessly, "Or we'll run out of money before we even begin."
"You're paying? Really?" she looks confused, "Couldn't you just take it?" she tore another chunk from the rack, but as she was chewing nearly bit her tongue off as Kakuzu rapped her forehead sharply with his knuckles eliciting a sharp squeal of indignation. "What was that for?!" she gasped out after swallowing the food trapped in her jaws.
"Never steal a meal." He spoke down at her level, eyes not leaving hers as he clearly imparted his message, "Money given to the poor goes farther. They spend it on food – the people they buy it from spend it on supplies – the suppliers spend it on business. Money imparted on this level goes far further than money transfered at its highest scale. This is basic economics." He tapped her head, "If you value money you need to know when to spend it. Stealing from those at the bottom gives no satisfaction – and it makes the money I so desperately covet all but worthless." He took a long sip from his own tankard, "Take these words to heart."
She regarded him with a raised eyebrow, "You sure like money…"
"Like money?" he smirked; a look which instinctively sent chills down her spine, "I love money. Money is the lifeblood of the world. It flows, it circulates – from numerous chambers of commerce money travels, invigorating societies and promoting movement. The world has many hearts, each pumping money out at a ridiculous pace." Grasping at the air, as though reaching for something invisible, her murmurs, "If you control that flow. If you hold the money. You control the world."
"I've never thought of it like that."
"People who lack vision seldom do," she let out another squawk of indignation, "But that will change as we travel. I have faith you will grow to become someone with vision, much as I did. However – before we can start we must have a frank discussion."
Blinking in confusion, she cocked her head and asked, "Frank discussion? What do you mean, exactly?"
"As it stands currently neither of us know each other in the slightest. If we are to build any sort of lasting relationship standard procedure involves setting out the parameters before we get in too deep, this is common sense. I shall use small words," she squawked again, "Purely so I do not have to repeat myself. You asked me to give you strength, which I shall do. In return you shall give me everything you ever were, or ever could have been, and become my vassal. Your loyalty must be absolute – and if you agree to this I in return shall hold up my end of the bargain."
"That doesn't seem like a fair deal," she reasoned.
"It isn't. However business is not based on equivalent exchange – that is a fallacy promoted by philosophers who know nothing of the world." He motioned at the meat in front of her, "How much would you say that cost? 10 Beli? 20 Beli? Whatever I pay for it will not match its actual monetary worth. Profit must be reaped." He thrust out a long finger and pointed at her, "The reason you are not receiving a fair deal is you have nothing I want. I however possess something you want. As such, according to the rules of trade, it is within my right to set terms that benefit me disproportionately."
She gaped at him. "Did you just call me meat?"
Unamused, he simply stared at her. "The point is," he continued, "All you have to offer me is your servitude. The details of this cannot yet be specified, if I am wholly honest, however you may trust in me that I would be a fair master. And, in return for this oath of loyalty, I shall teach you. I shall make you strong."
While considering his offer she ate another whole rack of lamb, though with a decided lack of vigour compared to the previous racks she'd devoured. "Don't you want to know why? Why I want to be strong?"
"I don't care."
"So fast-!" she lets out a surprised exclamation at this blunt and deadpan refusal.
"Whatever motivations you may ultimately have for what I will teach you, and I'm sure at present they are numerous and you feel passionately about them, they don't matter at all. So long as it does not serve as a hindrance to your abilities while acting as my vassal, your past means nothing to me. And why should it? Unless your ultimate goal is killing me, which considering our very brief time together I doubt, then it seems at some point our paths will diverge. But until such a time – we walk along the same road. What lies behind us has no bearing on our journey." He shrugs, "Your past, and whatever desires it has planted in your mind, should not be an ingredient in this process. If you are content to keep them to yourself, I shall not pry. Does that answer your question?"
"A bit too well, if I'm honest." She responded, petulantly. Chirping up notably, she flashes him a wide grin, "Alright then! I accept!"
"Good," he extends his large hand, "Then we shake and the deal is made." He hand is dwarfed by his, resulting in him having to hold her palm between his thumb and forefinger, but shake hands they did nonetheless. "We shall have an interesting journey together, little-Bonney. But before we can proceed to ultimate business, we are in desperate need of funds. And I have found, in desperate times such as this, the trade of life is the most versatile trade to take up." The wicked grin returns, as horrifying as ever, "How do you fancy become a Bounty-Hunter?"
"B-Bounty hunter?"
"Indeed. Let me give you an example," without warning his left arm disconnected completely from his body – attached only by six bare threads which burrowed into the flesh of the two separate stumps – and like a macabre hook latched onto the scruff of a nearby diner's cloak. With a small tug the arm rocketed back, dragging the hapless bystander towards Kakuzu and Bonney at great speed. Manoeuvring himself ever-so slightly, Kakuzu twisted his body and with a flick of his wrist moved the hand directly from the scruff to the back of the skull, slamming the man's jaw onto the table with an unpleasant thud. "As we entered this establishment I noticed four 'wanted' posters plastered on the bulletin board. This fellow," he tugged on the hair of the man, who let out an agonised moan accompanied by a small spraying of blood from his bleeding jaw, "is Lee Childs. 1000 Beli for theft and attempted murder."
Bonney stared – transfixed and horrified – at the spectacle, as did the stock-still contents of the pub.
"Typically speaking, above-board-authorities tend to prefer their criminals alive. It looks good on official figures; arrests tend to look better than fatalities. However, at the same time, they are often grateful that the necessity of having to process a perpetrator has been removed and they simply have to check a name off of a list." Lee let out a whimper. "It's also easier, infinitely so, transporting a corpse compared to a living human. But, today has been a very, very good day. So, in my generosity, I quite like to offer a certain degree of luck to my targets." In a single sharp movement he raised his leg and thrust it downwards onto Lee's femur, eliciting a sharp crack from the bone and an ungodly howl from Lee, who dropped to the floor as Kakuzu released his hair and began to cradle his leg. "So he can't run." Kakuzu explained simply, before rising to his feet. "Furthermore – it is common practice for the wanted to run in packs."
Almost in synchronisation with Kakuzu four other men rose to their feet, slowly but deliberately, their gazes readily fixed on Kakuzu's hulking form. "They take a while to process information, especially when they are in an environment which fosters relaxation such as a restaurant or inn. As such this is a prime occasion to attack." He spoke as a teacher would a young student, matter-of-factly.
In a group the four dashed towards Kakuzu, their friend, and a shell-shocked Bonney. Screams erupted from the other occupants of the pub as four cutlasses were brandished and thrust at the dark-skinned giant. Bonney stared, transfixed, as the blade's rippled then broke against his bare skin – leaving the would-be-attackers with nought but the sword-pommel.
Diving into action, Kakuzu thrust out his elbow impacting the face of the nearest criminal causing blood and teeth to fly out in random directions – followed fluidly by his arm snaking out and grasping the scruff of the same man's neck before using his form as a make-shift whip, knocking out the legs of the other three. As they fell to the ground Kakuzu returned to his full height, looking over their prone forms like a conqueror. "Rise in my presence again and you will be lucky to leave in one piece," he flashed them that monstrous grin, "Now be good dogs: and stay."
Turning on his heel and hoisting up the whimpering form of Lee with one arm, Kakuzu regarded Bonney. "Finish your meat quickly. Brawling is rarely appreciated in these establishments." He dipped his fist into the wallet he'd snatched from the ship, and tossed a few extra coins onto the bar-counter directly in front of the bartender, "For the damages."
"Watch out-!" with all the zeal of a maniac, the man Kakuzu had bloodied with his elbow had risen to his feet and drawn a flintlock – eyes screaming vengeance and murder for the pain he and his friends had been subjected too. Kakuzu could hear him move – even if he managed to let loose a shot before Kakuzu reacted the bullet would do virtually no damage. As he returned his gaze to the fray, his calm demeanour was quickly overturned by shock – before his eyes the man became smaller, his features tinier, and without any further warnings the pistol was being held by a child with a face as gravely injured as the man who had once stood before him.
At once, his younger form being seemingly far more sensitive, the child burst into tears and fell to his knees, trying in vain to wipe the tears from his face.
With a sweeping gaze Kakuzu surveyed the room, before turning towards the one who had yelled in the first place. Bonney had her hand outstretched, towards the now wailing child. "Interesting… Yes, interesting!" Kakuzu's grin formed, "So you are more than just a little-brat… Very interesting! We'll make something of you yet!"
With his free arm he took hold of Bonney and raised her onto his back, "Hold on tightly, I'll be running us to the local Bounty-office. When we're done I'll have more questions for you, but for now be aware," the manic look in his eyes, displaying untold greed and hunger, sent shivers down the young girl's spine, "You have impressed me, Jewellery D. Bonney.
XXX
I'm not the best at dealing with people on a personal level – and I'm even worse when it comes to handling children. This could quite possibly be a remnant of my own childhood, or rather my lack thereof. I was born in the midst of the First Great Ninja war, and therefore had none of the opportunities afforded to children born in times of peace – this was an uncivilised age where those in control could easily secure children test subjects from parents without any fear of repercussions. But whether it was from my own, now long distant, past or whether it was simply a characteristic I naturally held; I never gelled with children.
Over time, I expected, I would be more comfortable in the presence of Jewellery D. Bonney – comfortable enough perhaps to allow her a degree of freedom. But until such a time I made a conscious decision to keep her on a tight leash to ensure her development was both adept and useful. One thing was certain though – I doubted I would ever trust her.
Trust is something so important to ordinary humans – the concept that words have any meaning is truly fascinating for one who is mired in cynicism. In terms of finance: it is useless to take people for their word, as doing so would only result in financial ruin. Those who are successful seek to horde their success and so lie about failure, and those who are on the brink of bankruptcy lie to protect their own pride and delay the wrath of those who have invested in them. Honesty cannot exist amongst thieves, and everyone in the world in one sense or another is a thief.
But children, malleable as they are, can be afforded a degree of leniency. Certainly, even with her powers, she poses no immediate threat to me.
I had made a note to investigate those powers further – and interrogated the youngster thoroughly as we travelled. Devil's Fruit – the bounty of the sea – were coveted items: fruit said to hold the souls of demons from a bygone age, with the effect that whomever consumes a fruit takes on the powers of the demon which inhabits it. Whether it be the Kat Kat no Mi, as defined by the Commodore Komodus, or the Jik Jik no Mi which Bonney said she possessed – all the fruit's contain great power which, in the right hands, can be put to devastating use.
Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, Bonney's abilities as a "Time Woman" currently only extended to being able to reverse the age of a couple of people nearby for a limited period of time – the regression and period of time dependent on her concentration and proximity to those she chooses to affect. While this was a clear limit; it could only be improved upon with cultivation. She already had the right mind set – despite her obvious shock at my brutal handling of Lee's bounty she maintained her outwards composure and raised no objection, even when we handed him over to the nearby Naval Headquarters.
Sparing a thought to research the nature of the Devil's Fruit far more vigorously at a later date, I decided to focus all my attention on the short term in firstly getting enough funds to return to my financial comfort zone, and secondly in teaching my new companion to walk on her own two feet while in my service.
Even as we journeyed across the ocean towards Pharl-island, where a target with a bounty of 10, 000 Beli was rumoured to be located, I struggled to come to terms with my own reasoning in enlisting her. It seemed to happen on nothing more than a casual whim, perhaps I was curious of that look she held in her gaze. My thoughts have lingered more than I would like on my fragmented memories of Uzumaki Naruto – and of Konoha Ninja in general for that matter. The so-called "Will of Fire" which was said to grant their warriors the strength required to overcome any foe: in my youth I passed it off as a myth, and after encountering Hashirama Senju – a man who I hated more than any other for three decades after our first and only encounter – I made the naïve assumption that upon his demise so too did the Will.
Konoha of course was not the only ninja village to teach compassion and bravery to its young – but it tended to be the only one to actively encourage it above many other traits. Bravery was a thing for samurai and story-book heroes.
Bonney, whatever past she may have – and in keeping with my words I shall never enquire into it – she has gone through far more than any child her age ought to have in times of peace. Yet, despite her obvious struggles, and despite the weight that clearly rests on her mind which pressed her to ask a strange monster to provide her with strength – her eyes carry that same resolve I had seen in so many Konoha ninja. Hashirama Senju, Hatake Kakashi… Uzumaki Naruto.
In the corners of my brain I still feel the sting from his attack – a technique which bore under my skin and filled my body with wild wind chakra, tearing apart my own chakra network from the inside and doing enough challenge to break two hearts. Tiny needles coursing through my veins, which I was powerless to stop – and the sudden awareness that following the pain I would not have the strength to continue fighting even if I wanted to.
While they had used teamwork to ultimately overpower me, and played up my own arrogance in order to goad me into making a stupid and ultimately fatal error in our battle – the mere fact that a group of children were able to contend and outsmart me boggles the mind.
Perhaps, in teaching Bonney, I can eventually understand how they managed it.
XXX
It occurred to me after writing this that the first part is basically the plot of Leon: The Professional. Which genuinely wasn't my intention. But hey – I love that movie, so why the heck not. Jewellery Bonney is an interesting character, who I can only imagine will be even more interesting when Oda finally gets the chance to right about her (though at this pace, One Piece will finish in 2030 – so that may take a while) As such, I wanted to make her part of the focus of this story – kind of the foil to Kakuzu's logic and cold-philosophy (and she's called Jewellery. A joke I only thought of while writing this AN).
This chapter was more difficult than the previous one in terms of constructing a flowing and sensible narrative – hopefully Bonney and Kakuzu's partnership won't appear too contrived. I'm desperately trying to avoid the whole "child gets mentor, has montage, and becomes pseudo-god" trope that is quite pervasive in some stories: ultimately I want to create two flawed and ultimately not-all powerful characters, whose relationship is complex and dynamic.
I'm having fun working with this – and now I have a 3 arc structure established and a definite end in thought. So when the creative juices flow I'll be able to work on this with moderate ease – the biggest challenge is honestly being able to articulate the plot and spin it out.
As always, let me know what you think – anything constructive and any opinions or questions you may have are welcome.