Chapter 2: Persevere
Summary: Helmeppo has a lot of feelings about Coby's promotion to Captain.
Notes: For you, Owl! Thank you for supporting the OP Shoreleave Zine!
It's funny, Helmeppo can appreciate the humor. Or irony? Or…weird cosmic occurrence? He doesn't know what the exact feeling, this pattern recognition, or memory trigger is, but he knows it's something (he's a soldier, not an aristocrat, not even a faux one anymore).
The soldiers are cheering, the wind is breezing, the sky is blue-ing. And there's Koby, turning a hundred colors of pink and red because Vice Admiral Doll is pinning a shiny bright medal to his coat. If Hibari were to nudge Helmeppo in the ribs and ask him why he looks like he's just smelled something distasteful, and then do a double take because he keeps trying to cover that up with a self satisfying grin, Helmeppo would have to explain what exactly he finds so… funny, in this situation.
It's because the last time he was at a medal pinning ceremony, it was for his father. A medal for bravery though he'd lost most of his crew and an arm to boot. Like pieces of a broken glass, the fragments shower over him. Captain Morgan standing, shoulders back and staring, his crew (what was left of it) clapping. His new metal jaw glinting, shinier than the silver pin being stuck to his coat. The pride in Helmeppo's heart, the way his fifteen year old self kept straightening his shirt, hoping just a little bit of his father's pure majesty would rub off on him.
Just a little taste of that strength, that power. Something that made others look at him with respect, wanting so badly to be seen even a little bit like his father. What's fucking hilarious is that he feels the exact same way now. That same hope, that same longing, that same shade of pride.
But not at all for the same reasons. Young Helmeppo craving power for himself, but here in the now, in the present, needing it if only to stay by–
"Speech speech speech!" The crowd is crowing, Koby scratching the back of his head and chuckling gently. Flushed and embarrassed, humble to the point it made Helmeppo want to throw up. Or spin him around breathlessly and suck out all the air in his lungs through those pink lips.
His upper lip did some sort of curl, he could see it in the reflection off concerned Hibari's sunglasses. Right right, fix his face. A look of pride, of smug superiority. That was his Koby up there! His best friend! Finally getting the accolades he deserves for his convictions and dedication.
Others would now see what Helmeppo saw. His stomach dropped.
"Tch, look at them, all over Koby– Ow!" Rear Admiral Grus grunts around a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes, whimpering as Kujaku bops him on the head.
"Koby-san deserves it, he performed well at Rocky Port," she states, one of the Grus golem's nodding enthusiastically next to her. Grus glares and the semi-human shrinks immediately. Helmeppo listens with half an ear, eyes on his best friend, the newly crowned Hero.
Soldiers and citizens alike had been surrounding him all night, offering the newly promoted Captain wine and handshakes and who knows what else. And Koby was Koby, always so modest and kind. Shaking everyone's hand and saying he couldn't possibly drink their drinks. Holding babies passed to him, blushing at kisses pressed to his cheeks. Exactly what people wanted in a hero, not loud or rambunctious, not a blow hard or smug. Just good and kind Koby with a heart of gold.
A familiar head of pale pink shuffled up to the only friend Helmeppo's ever had, her hair only a few shades off from Koby's own. Hibari, holding her ceremonial rifle out to him. "Ah shit," Grus hisses, watching. Kujaku tenses.
"Well now, looks like the Fleet Admiral will be visiting soon," Vice Admiral Doll drawls, "Better shape up Grus-y, with his daughter under your command now." Her dark lips curve upward in a smile that screams with withheld mirth.
"Oh my, what a brave girl, I do hope Garp will not be a naughty boy over her joining," Kujaku sighs.
Helmeppo knows that he should say something. But all he can focus on is the way Hibari is smiling and shyly looking at her shoes then turning her blushing cheeks away from Koby like he's said something offensive. And Koby. He's smiling and just barely touching her shoulder and his eyes are warm and–
The food turns in Helmeppo's stomach.
The noise a blade makes as it cuts through air faster than the eye can track is a strange high pitched hum. Tashigi-san had said something about the noise you hear from a blade could tell you the swordsman's quality. The higher the pitch, the smoother the sound, the better the wielder. A truly skilled swordsman would have a blade near silent, a sound so intense it could break skin, cut flesh, slice bone.
His kukri sing, but not like that. He slashes forward, left, right, a nasty jab downward. It's all just a low thrum. Forward, left, right, down. Thrum. Thrum. A vibration in his ears. He has to be smoother, his shoulders less jerky, his grip tighter. Haki has got to somehow run down the hilt and up the blade, like Koby's skin turning black over his fists.
It has too! Helmeppo grits his teeth, going through the motions over and over, muscles aching. Had his father figured out how to have haki flow over the axe in his hand? If he had known long ago, would Kuro have been ever able to sever flesh so easily? Had the bastard learned how to by now? And if he had, would Helmeppo ever be able to face him? He's almost the same rank now.
Koby is a hundred times the Captain his father ever was. Koby's punches are stronger, Helmeppo knows their weight from thousands of hours of training. But what about Helmeppo's slashes? What about his strength? His speed? Not enough. Not enough, because there was Koby with a shining medal on his chest. Koby with command. He deserved it. He always did. God knows the way pride for his best friend, his first friend, burns under Helmeppo's ribs. He wants to grin and shout and cheer and pick the stupid pink haired idiot up and spin him around.
And now the world knows Koby's quality and he… Koby had nowhere to go but up. Up, up and away, like a bird.
Away from Helmeppo. The thought has been veering on the edges of his vision all day, but hits no less hard. Helmeppo gasps, crumples over, clutching his abdomen. Flashes of their time together flow like waves. Their pact to get strong, the Paramount War, Koby punching battlebags over and over. Spending nights looking up at the stars together as lowly cadets, running from Vice Admiral Garp's terrifying strength.
Koby will be like him one day. As wildly strong, as brave. A true apprentice to one of the greats. But him? Helmeppo? His kukri reflect his distraught and sweaty face among the stars. He'll be left behind, one of a billion thousand stars, never as beautiful or strong as the moon.
And it fucking hurts. Not because he's weak. He's always been weak, hiding behind the power of others. Koby is just another bright spotlight that he clings to like a moth is what he tells himself. Helmeppo's own dreams and achievements are small, enough for him, but for Koby? Oh god, Koby will grow and grow and grow.
And Helmeppo will just be a footnote in his biography. His tears splatter onto the dirt. He doesn't want to be just a footnote. He doesn't want to be forgotten! A lowly Captain at his own pinnacle while Koby becomes an Admiral, a Fleet Admiral even. Helmeppo wouldn't blame him for moving on, afterall, he tried to kill him once. And of course, growth requires sacrifice, and requires better soil, better sunlight, better…
This is just the first blow, the first crack. Maybe he should ask to transfer now. Join another division, let Koby go without making a fuss. Without imposing. He's imposed enough right? Taken up enough of the light Koby provides. His lip tastes coppery under his teeth, the idea of not sharing the same ship, the same duties, of being there to catch him when he inevitably does something crazy again makes everything spin. His chest constricts like he's taken one of Garp's punches straight on.
"There you are Helmeppo-san!" Oh fuck not now. Not now! Koby walks towards him, white coat flowing behind him, so bright in the quiet and dark training grounds. The coat is so big, like a cape. But he'll grow into it won't he? "Phew, long day huh? I don't think that many people have ever shaken my hand before…" he trails off, staring at him. It hurts to look at the cut of his jaw, the shape of his nose.
"Are you okay, Helmeppo-san?" Helmeppo has no idea how to answer. Well, he does. The usual smug bravado, some sarcastic quip. Quick, think of something! Anything!
"Well, you'd better get used to it. The great Captain Koby has to have a good hand shake after all." Wow, that came out like shit. Too tight in his throat, too false, too–
Fuck Koby has that look in his eyes, like punishing a puppy. Like he's done something wrong. He's done nothing wrong, nothing except be too goddamn GOOD! Helmeppo turns away, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes as he bends to pick his kukri up off the ground.
"Helmeppo-san."
He starts through his katas again, not looking at Koby. There's a rustling of cloth and then Koby is at his side again, doing push-ups on the dirt. It's quiet except for their breathing and the damn too loud thrum of his kukri. An hour passes, then two. They haven't stayed up this late training in a few months. It feels almost like old times except for the giant elephant of silence.
Koby finally flops back on the ground looking up at the stars. The moon has almost set. "I'm so beat. Maybe we should start training like this more often Helmeppo-san, you have the right idea."
It's the "we" in that comment that makes him stop short.
"We?" The word pops out of his mouth like a cherry pit. "You're pretty strong now, not sure if you have to do extra, being a Captain and a Hero. Isn't that the point where you don't have to do this?" He sounds petty so he tries to pass it off with a false laugh. He's good at those, has a lifetime of practice.
Koby is looking at him and Helmeppo suddenly gets the funny feeling that he's being watched, but not with those big round eyes.
"We have to keep getting stronger to keep up with Luffy-san. You and me, both." The way he says it is like… like an order, but not. Like he's asking, like he's invoking some kind of what, a prayer? It pushes something up out of Helmeppo's stomach, out of that space deep inside him that's dark and scared and hasn't grown at all.
"That's still what you want? Training with me? I'm not as strong or fast, or-"
"I want everything with you Helmeppo-san!" Koby is suddenly up on his feet, in his face, kukri be damned. "Together, you and me, always! I couldn't do this without you at my side!"
Something like a bolt of lightning, a ray of sunshine, a fist to the gut hits him in the chest and he's smiling and his eyes are leaking and the stars up above are so beautiful, but not as beautiful as they are reflected in Koby's glasses.
His kukri are thrown to the side and Koby is small in his grasp, just like always but there's strength in the arms that are hugging him back. After a while, he lets go, but to Helmeppo's surprise, Koby has a firm grip on his hand. The stress of the day hits and they flop to the ground like old times.
"So how's my hand shake?" Helmeppo asks, squeezing their fingers tightly.
"The best one all day," Koby says brightly, no shame, no falsity.
"Geez, really?"
Koby laughs and as far as Helmeppo is concerned, if this is forever, then he'll persevere through anything to keep it.