Time

Characters: Penguin, Shachi. Rating: K. Warnings: Set Post-Canon

The snow crunched beneath their boots as they trudged up the path, following a route they hadn't taken in fifteen years but their legs remembered all the same.

Penguin and Shachi hadn't bothered to tell their nakama where they were going, most of them too busy enjoying the venerable feast the island's inhabitants had set up. The singing and laughter could still be heard faintly behind them as they headed away from the hubbub, for once not the life and soul of the party. It wouldn't be long before their absence was noticed, but there was only one place they could possibly be going.

Noona had handed them what they needed as they left, the woman somehow still attuned to them despite the past fifteen years of separation. No words had been exchanged, but none were needed.

The graveyard loomed ahead of them, displaying more headstones than the last time they'd seen it – a reminder that life had gone on, even though they hadn't been there to see it – but the path to their destination was still unobstructed. They spared a glance for the newer additions, familiar names reminding them of people they'd never see again, but didn't halt their advance until they reached two stones near the top of the hill, pride of place in the cemetery.

"Hey," Shachi said weakly, dropping to his knees in front of one. The cloth in his hands fell to the ground, lying gently on top of undisturbed snow. "Sorry we were gone so long." He stayed there for several moments before reaching out to trace the two names gently. "You wouldn't believe the things we've been doing," he added, before launching into the tale, starting with a pair of teenagers and a mink fifteen years ago.

As he spoke he retrieved the cloth from where it had fallen and began to wipe at the stone, using the snow to dampen the cloth. The stone was not particularly dirty, certainly not covered in fifteen years of grime, but his fingers found small things – small cracks; smooth sections where the elements had polished the memorial – that had changed.

Beside him, knelt down in front of the neighbouring stone, Penguin mirrored his actions in silence. Shachi was talking enough for the both of them, their stories more or less identical through the years.

"I miss you, Mama, Papa," Shachi confessed once their tale was over. Neither knew how long he'd spoken for, but the shadows had grown longer and the breeze colder. The distant sounds of the feast had long since faded away to nothing, leaving the world silent.

"It might not have been the life you wanted for us," Penguin finally spoke, wiping the engraved names one last time before settling back on his knees. "But it's been a good one. We're still together, we're still watching each others' backs – that's okay, isn't it? As long as we're still together?"

There was no reply, not that they expected any from the graves. As one they drew sticks of incense from the bundles Noona had handed them, placing them reverently in front of the stones and lighting them. The unmistakeable scent, nostalgic after fifteen years of absence, filled the air and they bowed their heads, sweeping their hats off their heads as they did so and holding them in their laps as they closed their eyes.

That was how Noona found them, making her own way to the cemetery after the sun had set to see what had become of her two boys. Kneeling in the space between them with less grace than the last time the three of them had visited the graves together, she wrapped her arms around the pair of them. They leaned into her embrace carefully, and she chose to ignore the way the moon highlighted tear marks on their cheeks.

When they finally moved, the chill of the night in full force and the snow melting through their clothes to freeze their legs, they found Law leaning against a tree by the entrance to the cemetery, hat pulled low over his eyes. He said nothing as they joined him, and they let the silence persist on the walk back to the village.

Before they left Swallow Island, they'd introduce all of their nakama to their parents, but the first day was theirs alone.

This is what happens when I spend too much time listening to sad songs at midnight. Arguably a sequel to Reunite (chapter 86).

Thanks for reading!
Tsari