Benn followed Shanks, but his thoughts ran wild, his brain tried to catch up with the situation, but couldn't fully. The scarf around his neck was soft, the fabric a really good quality and shimmering red in the sun. It didn't match any of his clothing or his skin tone, but that didn't matter. It probably was the most expensive thing on his body now. Heck, it probably was even more expensive than Benn was himself. He refused to think about the amount of money Shanks had spent for him. No one in the world would spent three billion berry for a slave, and still the man in front of him had just done that, and even out of his own wallet.

The street was dusty, the sun warm on his skin, but not as hot as it had been when they'd had to march to the auction house. It was around six in the evening, maybe later, Benn could guess as much looking into the sky. The orange shimmer of the sinking sun danced on the white houses, and as he looked ahead again, his eyes caught on the red hair, the single strands dancing like flames. Automatically, his hand rose to touch the soft silk around his throat. He had done it a dozen times now during their silent walk past the houses of the town, and he still couldn't believe he was wearing it. Normally, it was forbidden for a slave to cover the necklace. Each person who looked at him should know what kind of person he was. If an owner found out his slave had tried to or actually had hidden the necklace, he was allowed and even encouraged to send power through his ring and either punish or kill the slave who had tried to fool the people around him. No matter how powerful or weak a person was, as long as they were the owner and in possession of the ring, simple words were enough to hurt or even kill the connected slave. It was one of the many aspects of the magic embedded in the jewelry. But Shanks had given him the scarf on his own accord, had hidden the necklace personally, so he would hardly do anything to punish Benn. Only one question remained: Why?

When Benn looked at his fingers he jerked slightly as they were glistening red. It was his own blood that had soaked through the fabric. The only thing that hindered everyone from perceiving it was the red color of the scarf. He hadn't even realized it himself, the spell Shanks had whispered preventing the necklace from touching his wound, as if a thin layer of air separated his freshly burned skin from the cold metal. Nevertheless, it was bleeding, the pain something so familiar to Benn he barely noticed it.

However, he didn't want the blood to ruin the scarf. Usually Benn wouldn't care, but something was different now. He couldn't wrap his mind around what it was, but so far Shanks had only been friendly towards him and how could he repay this kindness by ruining something which was Shanks'? Still, a part of Benn's brain shouted that he certainly would have to pay in some way if Shanks found out what he had done to the scarf even though another part knew it wasn't true. Shanks wouldn't punish him his whole course of actions spoke against it. Every other owner would, but this man with his fascinating red hair was special.

Benn started to silently whisper a healing spell, the one he always used when he switched owners and the necklace burned his skin, but before he could form the first two syllables, Shanks interrupted him.

"Please stop. We're nearly there and I want my doctor to tend the wound. I know it's bad, but self-healing always contains a risk." Although he spoke in a friendly tone, his voice was firm. He seemed to know what he was talking about. Benn just wondered how Shanks had realized he had wanted to heal it. The whispers hadn't been audible for any other ears than his own. But Shanks wasn't done speaking and again, he surprised Benn. "If it hurts too much, I can use a pain absorbing spell. I'm not great at it, but it should do the job."

For a moment, Benn was unable to answer. Shanks had stopped and turned around, so Benn had halted as well. He shook his head at the words, not really sure if this was a joke. It didn't feel like a joke. How could one of the strongest men of the known world admit so easily he was bad at something? Not to mention that a pain absorbing spell was something only fully trained doctors should be able to manage, and Benn was quite sure Shanks wasn't one. If he could manage to form one even though he was untrained, he was not bad but incredibly powerful. But why was he willing to take some of the pain Benn was feeling right now just to make him feel better? Whenever a pain absorbing spell was cast by an untrained person, the pain was only shifted from one to the other and not erased. He was a just slave, so why would Shanks care? Why would he take on pain that wasn't his?

"No Master, I'm fine. I just didn't want to ruin your scarf," Benn spoke quietly, feeling as if the words weren't his own. Why had he admitted he didn't want to ruin the scarf? It shouldn't bother him. Shanks had put it around his neck on his own. It was his fault if the scarf was ruined, not Benn's. Well, not that any other master would care whose mistake it was. Benn had been punished for other people's actions more than once, but something inside him whispered that Shanks would act differently. He would act in a way Benn was unable to foresee.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a piece of old linen, nothing of value," Shanks answered after a moment of silence that definitely felt too long for Benn. What kind of ridiculous lie was he telling? The fabric was high-quality silk and nothing less.

He gulped because he could see a certain sadness he didn't like in those bright eyes. It was a too familiar feeling, showing in eyes that resembled his own when he looked in the mirror and didn't pretend. No one had ever seen him like that, no one and still, Benn had the feeling Shanks knew.

"Let's go, the sooner you see Doc, the better!"

Somehow Benn had thought Shanks would lead him into some kind of palace, a villa or a fancy hotel. A Yonko would surely prefer something classy, luxurious, at least that was what Benn had imagined. He had been in a lot of such houses, escorting whoever his owner was at the moment, and warmed the bed for important guests, business partners or just random people that needed to be impressed. If his master owed something to someone, Benn had been loaned as payment. If his master needed to be in good graces, Benn was the bait, and sometimes he just was a present to ensure a special night.

However, the room he now waited in for Shanks to return to was nothing near as luxurious as he had anticipated. Instead, it was a little rugged, the furniture old and the bed he sat on creaked with each move he made. They had entered a tavern, muffled noises coming from the bar underneath them. Shanks had explained they would stay just for one night before making their way to his home town Manaos and to his palace. Maybe this would be closer to what Benn expected a Yonko's residence to be. He would see in a few weeks, as they still had to travel a few hundred miles to even cross the border from Kaidou's to Shanks' territory.

Benn loved the place; the tavern, the room, everything about the cozy atmosphere that surrounded him at the moment, he honestly did. There was nothing fancy about it, no forced politeness and no suspicious looks at him or his necklace. He didn't have to remember correct titles or bow in front of each person he met. This was as he imagined it would be without his chain. It just got harder and harder for him to remember that the one who owned him now was a Yonko and not just a normal… person. Though he never forgot he wasn't free.

He looked up when the door was opened and Shanks stepped in, followed by a man with long blond hair and skin a little lighter than usual in this region. Not as pale as Benn, but that was hardly possible. The blue eyes of the stranger regarded him, then he turned to Shanks and shrugged.

"I better start right away."

With those words, he made his way to his patient. Benn tried to stand up but was prevented from doing so when the other man motioned for him to stay put, so he remained sitting. Then the doctor's hand reached for the scarf around Benn's neck. He immediately tensed, not enough for anyone to notice but it was his normal reaction to people trying to touch him. He locked his feelings away so nobody would see his pain.

Nevertheless, Shanks must have sensed his unease even though Benn was sure he had managed not to let his mask slip in the slightest. He knew the doctor hadn't noticed anything, because he looked baffled when he was interrupted by his superior.

"Stop," Shanks said firmly, and the doctor turned, confused, his hand still lingering in midair.

"I didn't do–" he started, but Shanks shook his head.

"I know. It doesn't matter. Benn, would you please remove the scarf?" Shanks said softly, and Benn followed his order. The red fabric weighted heavy in his hands, as Benn realized it was as drenched in blood as his neck now had to be. He could hear the doctor inhaling sharply.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, and Shanks shot him a dark look. His lips twitched up bitterly, showing he must have told the doctor, who hadn't believed his superior.

"Can you open…" the doctor began, but Shanks just shrugged, pain dancing in his eyes. What was it he wanted to open? Not really? That was not possible, why should he remove the necklace just for a healing? The mere minute the necklace was not around Benn's neck, he could do anything without fearing for the ruby to explode. Benn knew he would never allow anyone to ever put that thing back on him again once it was off. He would fight if they should try. Freedom was something he would grab with both hands and never let go of it again.

However, his hopes rose as Shanks started to murmur something. The power of the words shifted the air and goose bumps appeared on Benns' arms. He always knew when a seal was spoken, and this one was something powerful. However, a moment later the feeling was gone and his necklace still remained where it had been for the last twenty years. The spark of hope that had started to glow in his heart was crushed. He really should have known better. He was a slave and he would remain a slave. All focused on his own pain and disappointment, Benn didn't notice the small tear running down Shanks' face.

Benn focused again when Shanks' knees gave way and the doctor caught him before he could fall to the floor. The other man's expression was even more shocked now, probably wondering what caused his ruler to just lose consciousness. Nevertheless, he held Shanks upright as best he could. Out of habit, Benn shot up, words on his lips. He knew certain spells to stabilize a person, to give back strength and stop her or him from fainting, but it would drain his own energy.

For the second time the air shifted and power filled the room. This time, there was no sudden ending of the spell and Benn's necklace began to glow slightly, the layer of air vanished as if the protective seal had simply dissolved. The hot metal burned what hadn't had time to heal. Blood streamed down Benn's neck, chest and back as he tried to ignore the pain and remain standing. He didn't want to show weakness, didn't want to show how much the burning necklace, the pain and the loss of power that had been needed for the spell to stable Shanks affected him. He wanted to lie down and pass out, but fought against it. In all this agony a small part of him wondered why the necklace was burning again. That had never happened before, even though he had used several spells in his time as a slave.

What should have been a normal spell to break a seal turned out to be absorbing most of Shanks' energy. It was the spell he always used for opening the necklaces of slaves he wanted to free. He never had experienced such a reaction before, and it took him completely by surprise. He would have stopped his words earlier if he had known what would happen, but it just struck him a moment too late. His eyes were fixed on the ring on his finger which seemed to mock him when his vision went black and his knees gave way.

The next thing he realized were soft words flowing through his mind, a soft caress beckoning him to open his eyes. They took away the blackness and the weakness he had felt moments before, as they left his system with a soft caress, like feathers caressing his skin. Shanks' eyes shot open, his stance steadying in seconds and he freed himself from his doctor, looking questioningly at the man. But Doc only shook his head, negating any action on his part, as his whole expression spoke of wonderment. He didn't know what was going on, either.

"But how…" Shanks mumbled, confused, and Doc shrugged as his eyes finally wandered to Benn. He made a shocked noise, before he rushed to the man who just stood there, eyes dancing with pain. His whole upper body was smeared with blood, skin shimmering red, because he hadn't worn a shirt since the time he had been in the auction house. Shanks had intended to give him proper clothes after Doc had seen to him, but that was the last thought on his mind right now. How could Benn just stand there, without saying anything, when it was visible on his face that he was close to fainting? Where did he take the energy from?

While Doc nearly shouted his healing spells, Shanks could only stare wide-eyed. His gaze searched for Benn's, but as he found it, it was empty. The man was too consumed by pain to notice anything else. Guilt built up inside of Shanks. His fingers darted to the ring and he turned it twice as he kept looking down at his hand. It was that little piece of metal that had blocked Shanks' spell. The ring had hindered it from working, absorbing his power to an extent it had caused him to lose consciousness. He had never heard of something like it before. How could Shanks open Benn's necklace when he as his owner wasn't allowed to?

Meanwhile, Doc softly pushed Benn onto the bed. The man had been standing all the time, mind apparently drifting to somewhere he could ignore the pain. However, he didn't resist the doctor's push, and wasn't tensing up at the touch. Perhaps he didn't even realize it. Doc had stopped the bleeding, but to fully heal the wound, he needed more time and concentration. Shanks wasn't even sure whether the doctor could operate with the metal in the way. But Doc would have to work around it since he wasn't able to remove he necklace right now. It seemed his doctor though the same as a hiss escaped his mouth and his gaze pierced into Shanks'.

"You have to help me," he said firmly, and Shanks rushed to him, nodding.

"What do I need to do?"

"Hold up that thing, somehow," Doc told him and Shanks reached for the necklace, to lift it.

However, the moment his left hand, the one he wore the ring on, touched the cold metal, a wave of dark power crashed through him. He inhaled sharply, trying to hold it back. It was hard, but Shanks managed, though the feeling left him shudder. That was black magic. It wasn't a seal that kept Benn's necklace locked, but a curse. It didn't explain what had happened before, it just made the whole situation more complex and dangerous and maybe it was the reason why a common opening spell hadn't worked.

"Shanks?"

The voice pulled him out of his state of shock, and Shanks looked at his doctor. The other man regarded him with concern, but only got a growl in reply.

"Start your fucking treatment," Shanks said, and his head turned back to Benn to catch his gaze. His expression was weary, but with relief Shanks realized he was coming back to them. The numbness in his eyes faded away and was replaced by questions. So many questions Shanks couldn't count them. He knew why, but how could he possibly tell Benn that he, as a Yonko and supposedly one of the four strongest people in the world, was too weak to open his necklace and grant him freedom. How could he tell Benn that he couldn't remove his chain, while all the other slaves Shanks had bought beside him would soon be free. No, he would not say a single word, but find a way to open this cursed necklace, too. He would find a way to finally set Benn free.

Healing Benn took longer than Shanks had anticipated. The necklace was in the way, and Doc had to concentrate very hard on the right words. Shanks knew, one false one or a mixed up sentence could require the doctor to start anew and in the worst case it would hurt Benn further. But after what felt like an eternity Doc stepped away and sank down on the floor panting. Shanks' eyes darted to the skin on Benn's neck which was still slightly red, and he noticed several scars that weren't covered by the dried blood. Some of them had to be years old while others seemed more recent. With care, Shanks placed the necklace back on the skin, covering up the evidence of all the agony that Benn had endured. Though appearing perfect from the outside, Shanks realized how broken the man in front of him really must be.

"I'm sorry," Shanks whispered only for Benn's ears to hear and the man looked up, gray eyes puzzled.

"Why?" he asked, a frown on his face, voice low, too. "You helped me."

"Yes, but it's not enough."

Shanks' words rang through Benn's mind. He was still trying to get what the other man meant with it when the doctor looked up again. He seemed to be exhausted, but Benn knew he had done good work. This wound had been something not all doctors would have been able to heal, Benn himself would have had trouble with it. He could heal himself, but only to a certain extend. The moment he had helped Shanks and the necklace had burned his skin again, his strength and capabilities would not have been enough.

Helping Shanks hadn't been something Benn had given thought to. He had just reacted, the stabilizing words on his lips before he could wrap his mind around what he was really doing there. He never assumed it would cause his necklace to react, it never had, and he had helped some of his owners before. Never because he really had wanted to, but because he had had to. This time, it had been different, his actions out of free will. But to think… No, surely his decision wasn't the reason for the heat. It would mean a plain piece of metal refused him freedom over his own mind, while already refusing him freedom over his body.

"What happened here?"

The breathless voice of the doctor made Benn focus again. His eyes darted from the blond to Shanks, but the same question was visible in the bright eyes of his new owner, so Benn assumed he had to answer, even though he didn't have a proper one.

"I don't know. Usually the burning only happens when I switch owners," Benn explained while he shrugged his shoulders. He made the whole thing appear unimportant to take a bit of the tension away. It failed because Shanks shot him a look that spoke of fury. He didn't have to raise his voice to make clear he wasn't accepting the understatement. Benn gulped, but didn't look away. Why the hell did the man care?

"That explains the scars," came the mumbled reply from the doctor still sitting on the floor. He broke the silent duel between Shanks and Benn who had their eyes locked with each other. The horror in his face shocked Benn. For the first time he realized it wasn't only Shanks who cared. "Whoever had healed you all the time did a good job, though. Even I can't prevent scars every time. I'm sorry."

The words baffled Benn, but he didn't dare to correct the man. Back then he had healed himself, something he had needed to learn out of necessity. None of his old owners had cared enough to send a doctor to look at him. The first time he had been sold, he had been sixteen. It had been the first time he was solely considered a pleasure slave, desire attracted by a body that wasn't even fully grown. It had been a painful healing. He hadn't even had a clue what he was doing back then, when a shattered mind had worked on a shattered body.

"He did it himself," Shanks said numbly and both Benn and the doctor jerked slightly, but Benn managed to hide his surprise a little better. He shouldn't wonder how the redhead knew, since Shanks had stopped him when he had tried to heal himself earlier.

"He did it… what?" Doc stuttered, and his gaze shot from Shanks to Benn and back.

For some reason, Benn wanted to laugh at the baffled man. The way he was unable to grasp the situation was hilarious. The whole situation was hilarious. What was the problem with Benn healing himself? It shouldn't be something important. After a moment, the doctor managed to pull himself back together, and his eyes pierced Shanks, but whatever answer he tried to find in the other man's face wasn't there. Slowly, he looked over to Benn, and he took a deep breath before he spoke. "Could you tell me who taught you?"

"No one," Benn answered and shrugged again. He didn't like the tension in the room. He didn't like that these people even cared so much about it that they asked. He would only start to like them if they were friendly and then he would get hurt. There was no need for that. "I had the choice to either be punished for ruining my owner's clothes or heal myself. I chose the latter option."

Did he sound arrogant? Yes, he probably did, but Benn didn't care. If they punished him for his words, he would at least know they were like everyone else. He even wished they would, just so he didn't have to wonder anymore why this redhead and his companions were so different. Why he felt so close to him. He felt like he could read Shanks like an open book. The words lay in front of him, he read them with ease, but Benn had no idea where the story would go to. He was even more clueless when Shanks spoke, anger covering his voice.

"You better never worry about clothes again."

It was an advice, but somehow it also sounded like a hidden threat, as if in case Shanks ever found those who had forced Benn to choose, the last thing these people would worry about were their clothes, but rather their lives.