The sky was blue, and the water still.
Standing on the foredeck of his snail cruiser, Vinsmoke Judge smiled as he took in the sight. The fjords loomed around him; steep cliffs and rough-hewn mountains, peaked in white snow and wreathed in green forests.
This was Kaisafjord. This was the land of his ancestors, or what remained of it. Once, over nine hundred years ago, this had been a vast island, populated by a mighty and brave nation; who had for sixty-six days made the North Blue their own. Of that, only these fjords remained; an eternal monument to the glory that had been the Germa Empire.
These fjords, and what lay in the waters between them.
At first glance it was a mass of turrets and towers, arranged around a tall castle; all set on a cluster of enormous cylinders. But like all those who had spent their lives there, Judge knew the truth. Inside each of those cylinders was a Giant Aquatic Snail, the cylinder a frame built over its shell. It was those enormous snails that allowed the floating citadel to move, and for individual towers to split off and sail as they pleased.
And the castles were not just castles. Within their stone walls hid the beating heart of his kingdom. Foundries and mills, factories and workshops, living quarters and training halls; everything needed to raise and train a mighty army. An army like no other, that was his and his alone.
He was Vinsmoke Judge, King of Germa, Supreme Commander of the Germa 66, inheritor of the legacy of ancient Germa. In both ways that mattered, he was coming home.
He glanced to his left and right shoulders. His sons. red-haired Ichiji and blue-haired Niji stood there, arms crossed, faces impassive. They rarely showed much emotion, and it was right that they didn't. They were as he had made them, and he was glad of it.
Judge felt the snail cruiser slowing down. They were getting close, and he could see the gap in the flank of the floating kingdom; the gap this cruiser's deck would soon occupy. Troopers in full battle dress stood up ahead, waving flags and gesturing with their arms, guiding the snail into position. Judge stood where he was, unmoving, unaffected, as the snail withdrew into its shell, and the deck slid into place with a heavy clunk.
The troopers fell away to either side. Before him was a wide parade ground and an open boulevard, leading straight to the Royal Castle. His path was flanked with troopers of the Germa 66; thousands upon thousands, arranged in serried ranks. Every uniform spick and span, every musket gleaming, every face set forward; expressionless, statuesque, unyielding and unfeeling.
"PRE-SENT…ARMS!"
His heart swelled as he stepped onto the parade ground, and thousands of muskets snapped forward; every movement identical, every sound as crisp as a whip-crack. This was his army, an army like no other, an army that no other kingdom could imitate, let alone outdo.
Organized, efficient and most importantly, completely obedient. Perfect soldiers, all happy to lay down and die for him should he ask.
He strode across the parade ground and down the boulevard, his sons just behind him, his entourage of troopers following on. He could not help but revel in the magnificence of it, in the martial power arrayed to welcome him home. He needed it, after those interminable days at the Reverie; surrounded by the effete, treacherous creatures that claimed to be his fellow monarchs. After all that luxury and frivolity, it was good to be in a place of warriors again; a place of honor, honesty, and strength.
Onward they strode, down the boulevard, the stone towers looming over them like ancient, giant sentinels. Before them stood the Royal palace, the great eagle of Germa emblazoned above its mighty doors; swung wide to welcome them.
Up the steps they went, through the cyclopean doorway, and down the main hall; tall and wide enough to let giants walk it comfortably, lined with yet more troopers in perfect order. The collonaded walls were hung with portraits; showing the triumphs of his ancestors. Between them were arranged the trophies of those conquests; snapped swords, scorched armor, half-melted crowns, moth-eaten banners.
And then his favorite; a photo of him standing proud; with the four severed heads of four kings who had failed to pay the Heavenly Tribute, and banded together against the World Government. They had raised mighty armies and fleets, and built strong fortresses; thinking themselves proof against the might of the Marines.
Now they were headless corpses, and their kingdoms were scorched ruins; their lands divided between Judge and the nameless king who had hired him. Their remaining subjects toiled for foreign masters in fields no longer their own, or else wandered the world as human flotsam, dispossessed and forgotten.
It had been a good war, a satisfying war. The four had been strong enough to pose a challenge, to force his children and his officers to learn, and grow stronger.
Finally they reached the throne room, with its high-packed, skull-topped throne,and behind it the great eagle crest; the numbers 66 emblazoned across its chest. His throne, and his crest.
And upon the throne, sprawled like some lazy, drunken teenager, was his third son; green-haired Yonji.
There was an extraordinarily long pause.
"Oh?" Yonji finally stopped pretending not to notice them. "Welcome back, father."
"What the hell are you doing?!" Niji asked with a hint of an rage. "Get the hell off there and show some respect?!"
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Yonji clambered off the throne and stalked down the steps to the floor level. He bowed his head, and his manner changed completely.
"Father, the kingdom is all in order, and I have matters to report."
"Hmmm…" mumbled Judge, looking around. "I see you haven't burned the place down, anyway." He paused while Niji sniggered. "But you'll forgive me if I make a quick inspection, just to put my mind at ease."
Yonji lowered his head again, but Judge knew he was smarting. It was no more than he deserved after that little display.
Yonji led the way out of the throne room, down dark and familiar corridors into the rear of the palace; then down the steps into the undercroft. Judge was pleased to see the security doors closed and locked, all with the guards in place. He paid little attention to the rigmarole of passing through the doors, and the next doors, and the next doors. His heart was pounding at the thought of what lay beyond.
Finally, they reached the main chamber of the undercroft. Hidden deep below the castle, it was a place no outsider ever saw; let alone lived to tell of. Even the servants were not allowed down there; and even the troopers who guarded it did not actually see inside. The only occupants were white-clad technician-troopers; trained by Judge himself, and kept separate from their peers. Of all the Germa troopers, they alone knew the truth of this place.
The chamber itself was wide and tall, its walls and floors a sterile blue; in sharp contrast to the stone and wood paneling elsewhere in the castle. At the center of the chamber was an enormous column, lined with rack upon rack of tall glass jars; each twice the height of a man. More lined the walls at floor level, and on a floor above; hundreds upon hundreds of them. Each jar was filled with blue fluid; and within the fluid floated the shape of a man.
His kingdom had over six thousand soldiers at the ready. And within this laboratory were a thousand more, his largest batch. And more would come soon.
Judge paused, staring up at the central column jars with pride. The men in the jars, if they could be called men, floated stock-still; their eyes covered by black eyepieces, their faces expressionless. Each one was muscular, perfectly-formed, the very image of a soldier. How unlike the early attempts, the misshapen horrors, the skinless monstrosities, the ones that dropped dead as they left their jars.
Trial and error; the experimental process that made science possible. If at first you don't succeed, analyze, evaluate, and try again. Every failure was a brick in the foundations of success.
No such failures here. Soon these creatures would be decanted, and marched upstairs into the sunlight as cadet troopers of the Germa 66; never knowing from whence they had come.
This was the true power of Germa. This was a power no one in all the world could give him. The power of human life, refashioned and recreated as he saw fit. Perfect soldiers, manufactured as easily and conveniently as the weapons they carried. An army that would never tire or break; an army that would crush any enemy through sheer unrelenting force. An army that was his and his alone.
Judge smirked. He wondered if this was how Gods in creation myths felt when they made their people. But that's all they were. Myths. Not reality. Not like this.
"There, you see?" Yonji gestured around the chamber. "Everything's fine. I inspected the place myself every day. Happy now?"
Judge continued his inspection a moment longer, enjoying the sound of Yonji's teeth grinding with frustration, then finally turned to face him.
"Yes, Yonji," he replied mildly. "Now. Perhaps some coffee. I would like to hear your report."
(X)
The family returned upstairs and repaired to one of the many side rooms; and had coffee sent for. Judge sat in his high-backed chair, while his sons lounged in their seats; while behind them, nervous-looking maids carefully strained and poured their coffee. He said nothing as Niji slapped one of the maids on the rump mid-pour.
"Oi." Yonji looked at the maid, and he smirked. "Pour it…" he scooted back, and patted his lap, "sitting on here."
Ichiji sighed as the nervous brunette maid sat on the green-haired teen's lap, and he slid an arm around her waist.
"Nice, nice, nice." Yonji leered. "Must be nice, pouring coffee for your prince like this," he murmured. The maid looked uneasy, her eyes fixed on the cup as she poured.
"Easy. I don't bite." He smirked. "Unless you're… you know~" The maid whimpered as his hand ran up her thigh.
"Yonji," Judge ordered. "You're a prince. Not some simpering womanizer in a brothel. Control yourself." Yonji sighed, and snapped his fingers; the girl swiftly removing herself from his lap. Yonji scowled and pouted, his fun spoiled; while Niji laughed.
Judge forced himself not to glower. He didn't care about that girl, or any of the servants. But his sons were princes, and appearances had to be kept up. Sadly, for all the effort he had put into designing and training his sons, that wasn't one of their strengths.
"I trust there were no problems while we were gone?" The blonde king hazarded, as the maids finished their pouring. Yonji paused and sighed, and Judge knew immediately something had indeed gone wrong. Hiding their emotions, those he had left them, was not a strength of theirs either.
"There's been a problem," Yonji replied cautiously. "The fleet we sent to…"
"Pugghh!"
Judge almost gaped in disbelief, as Niji spat out a mouthful of coffee.
"What kind of swill do you call this?!" he roared, rounding on the luckless maid who had just served it. "I take sugar with my coffee, not coffee with my sugar!"
"Your highness…!" babbled the maid, terrified. Judge shot her a glare, shoo'd her off, and she trotted fast towards the door; the others doing likewise.
"Niji…" Judge growled. "You are a prince of Germa. Act like it."
"She put too much sugar in my coffee!" snapped Niji petulantly. "They know how I like my coffee! What use are servants who can't even make coffee right?!"
"There's nothing wrong with this coffee," retorted Ichiji, elegantly lowering his cup. "And even if there was, we don't shriek and spit like ill-bred toddlers about it. Calm down."
"Tch, whatever." Niji rolled his eyes and shoved his cup in the middle. "Fucking women. Can't even get coffee right."
"Don't mind if I do." Yonji smirked, grabbing Niji's cup and sipping from it. "Tastes fine to me."
"Because you're a sweet tooth pussy." Niji uttered. Yonji glared back at him, and Judge half-expected him to lunge. Instead he just sat back, and sipped at the coffee.
"As father said, we are princes," Ichiji went on. "Thus there is a level of decorum we must adhere to, especially when the troopers see us."
Judge gave him an approving nod. Ichiji was only his eldest son by a matter of minutes, but he was still the most mature and self-disciplined of the three. Even Reiju tended to defer to him, despite being three years older. She had known, even as a child, what she was dealing with.
"Now, Yonji, continue." The green haired boy perked up and sat up, setting down his cup.
"Okay, so. The fleet we sent to Brew Island?" Yonji started again. "It's been lost."
The room went very cold and very quiet.
"How, lost?" asked Ichiji.
"Four days ago, we got a garbled transmission," Yonji went on. "They said they were under attack by a single pirate ship, and they were activating security protocols."
Security protocols, in this case, meant destroying anything remotely incriminating or useful to an enemy; such as logbooks, maps, and munitions, and themselves. For a trooper captain to have made that call, the situation must have been desperate indeed.
"A single pirate ship?" demanded Niji with a glare. "Is that all?"
"Like I said, the transmission was garbled," insisted Yonji, glowering back. "There was a lot of background noise. Whoever they were, they must have moved in while the troopers were spread out around the island prepping it for strip mining."
"So the extermination was done by then?" asked Ichiji.
"Yes. The report came in a couple of hours earlier. No survivors."
That was good. No survivors meant no witnesses, and the Germa 66 used the same standard weaponry as the Marines. Even if those pirates tried to make something of it, they hadn't a scrap of evidence that Germa was responsible. Not that the Marines would ever take a pirate's accusations seriously; but Germa had enemies, all waiting for an opportunity, or the right excuse.
"It was probably some pirate crew wandering by from the Grand Line," mused Ichiji. "Ships going under the Red Line pop up around there, and they're leagues above the pirates we have in the North Blue."
"Yes, we were unlucky," agreed Judge. "We'll have to send a larger force next time, once we've replaced our losses."
'And in the meantime, tread carefully for a while,' he thought. 'Best have Reiju look into it before we go.'
"You should have let me lead the fleet," complained Yonji. "They wouldn't have gotten jumped if I was there." He smashed his fist into his palm. "Would have been great to bust their heads."
"You were needed here," retorted Ichiji. "Someone had to command here while we were gone."
"So you sent Reiju instead?" grumbled Yonji. "She didn't even do anything! I'd have gotten that mission done, and taken down those pirates myself, no sweat!"
"Reiju isn't the fighter either of you are, but she has her uses." Judge cut in. "Scouting and reconnaissance are important in warfare, Yonji. And that is a skill you greatly lack." Yonji glared off to the side.
"Yeah, you're as subtle as a roided-out bull." Niji smirked. The green haired man glared back at his blue haired brother. "You'd just bungle it and make an ass of yourself."
"Want me to shove this up your ass then?" Yonji growled, lifting up his coffee cup.
"You're welcome to try." Niji smirked, gripping the arm of his chair, sparks of electricity appearing in his hand.
"Enough of this quarreling!" Judge snapped. The two brothers faltered, looking at him with a mixture of nervousness and resentment; like when they were boys, and he had slapped them for being troublesome.
"I'm just stating facts," Niji drawled as he looked off to the side. .
"Fuck off," Yonji muttered, angrily drinking more coffee.
"Reiju did her duty, and you did yours Yonji. Relax." Ichiji sipped from his coffee, the redhead as cool as can be.
"Yeah, right! Duty," griped Yonji. "I get stuck here kicking my heels, while Reiju does something useful and you guys live it up at the Reverie! Some duty that is."
"You didn't miss anything!" snorted Niji as he waved his hand. "It was a bunch of stuck-up royalty in fancy outfits whining about too many pirates and too high taxes, and trying to marry off their kids. You should've seen the princesses trying to schmooze up to Ichiji." He grinned, and jabbed his thumb at his brother. "Bro turned them all down, sent them crying to their daddies. And then there was Reichen Bach during the Council of Kings."
"Seriously?" Yonji quirked an eyebrow. "He actually said what he said in the paper? It wasn't just fluff?"
"Oh yes," drawled Nijii with a smirk. "He did. He stood up in all his finery and trashed the Marines right in front of all those Kings! Those Vice Admirals looked like they wanted to jump over the table and strangle him!"
"Now that would have been entertaining," commented Ichijii mildly.
"And not going to happen," Judge cut in. "The Marines had fools made of them by one of their own, and all the world knows it. Though I suspect Bach can forget about any more contracts from the Marines for a while, outside of his G-Base."
"Which is where we come in, right?" asked Yonji, quirking an eyebrow. "You did get to talk to him, right?"
"Oh, I did." Judge smirked, pleased that Yonji was actually taking this seriously. "He's a shrewd young fellow, but I managed to pique his interest."
"Soft is what he is!" snorted Niji. "He calls himself a King, but he lets a bunch of politicians run his kingdom for him! Elected politicians!" He barked a laugh. "And letting minks live and work in the kingdom! They're even marrying humans!" He blanched. "Disgusting."
"Who cares what they look like, so long as they obey?" retorted Yonji. "Besides, some of those female minks are easy on the eyes." The green-haired youth looked to his father.
"So what are you offering to him for access to those mines of his?" he asked, smirking. "Reiju, maybe? She'd make a pretty bride, and a lovely Queen."
"Yeah, I can just see it," added Niji, half-laughing. "Wafting around in a frilly dress, popping out babies, cutting ribbons, getting bouquets from adorable children."
The two of them laughed, their past spat forgotten, and Judge took a long sip of coffee.
"Funny you should say that," he said, lowering his cup. "One of Bach's entourage, a certain Jernigan Jenner, made that very suggestion to me. Of course I turned him down."
He set down his cup, his lip curling.
"I admit, I'm curious to see what sort of children Reiju would produce," he growled. "Especially with someone like Reichen Bach. But I did not spend time and effort enhancing her so she could end up as a royal broodmare. She is not a political pawn, any more than you are."
Yonji shrugged. "So what next then? More contracts?"
"Yes." Judge settled in his seat, allowing his sons a smile. "I had been hoping to establish a presence in the region around Reverse Mountain, but Jack the Drought has beaten us to it. Since we're in no position to take on an Emperor, least of all Kaido, I thought to switch our focus to Brew Island; but now that's gone wrong too. Fortunately we have some contracts in the offing, which should keep us profitably occupied. Once we've sorted out Brew Island, we can return our attention to the New World."
He took a long drink of his coffee. "In the meantime, we need to…"
He stopped, as a sharp knock rang through the room.
"Enter!" he barked. The door opened, and an officer of the clone troopers strode briskly inside, the door slamming shut behind him. He halted, and snapped off a pleasingly crisp salute.
"Your majesty, your highnesses, we have a situation."
"Speak freely," ordered Judge with a nod as Yonji sipped from his second cup.
"Snail cruiser 17 has reported in from Sector A7. Princess Reiju has gone missing."
"PFFFT!" Yonji spat out his cup and coughed.
For a few moments, Judge's mind was blank. The words he had just heard made no sense at all.
"Uhh. The fuck?" Yonji uttered, coffee still leaking from his mouth. Niji was slack jawed.
"Missing?" asked Ichiji, maintaining his composure.
"Missing, your highness," confirmed the officer. "They were attacked by Sea Kings while traversing the Red Line, and stopped at an island for repairs. Princess Reiju took a walk, and never came back."
Judge gripped the armrests of his chair. He couldn't deal with it, he couldn't make sense of it. Reiju did not go missing! If the troopers were not incapable of lying, he would have thought it a trick, or some kind of ridiculous prank!
But he could see the shock on the faces of his sons. Yonji's mouth was agog and Niji was stunned. Even Ichiji looked rattled. For all their prowess in battle, they could not act, pretend, or lie worth a damn. This was no trick.
"They searched the island?" asked Ichiji.
"Yes, your highness. They found three sets of footprints on the other side of the island. One of them belonged to the Princess, and there were signs of a small struggle. But otherwise nothing. No blood stains, no damage to the land, nothing."
"Nothing? No sign of a boat?"
"No, your highness. Captain Epsilon thinks the waves might have washed away any sign."
Judge took a long breath, forcing his heart to stop pounding, and his shocked mind to clear. He could not show weakness, not in front of his sons, and definitely not in front of a mere trooper.
"Anything else?" Judge asked, tersely.
"No, your majesty. Captain Epsilon requests further orders."
"Go. You will have orders soon. Epsilon will remain on standby." The officer saluted, and strode out of the room.
"Well shit!" declared Niji. "Somebody jumped Reiju? They've got some balls!"
"She must've been taken," mused Yonji. "They must've been hiding on the other side of the island, kept their boat down the beach where the water would wash away any evidence, and jumped her when she wandered by. No slouches, these guys."
"But how would they even know she was there?" demanded Niji. "Unless they'd been tracking her all the way from Brew Island?!"
"Probably not," Ichiji cut in. "Brew held allegiance to no one; not the Emperors or the World Government. Even if someone else was there to see or follow her, it's unlikely that they could cross the Calm Belt. The Marines have no reason to bother her either."
"And the Marines at Heavensward have been clamping down on anyone with a bounty over ten million," Niji added. "No one below that would last five minutes against her."
"Enough!" ordered Judge. He stood up, his sons leaping to their feet. "We don't have time to speculate. We get her back, immediately. Send out scout ships to that area of North Blue at flanking speed and have them search Sector A until they find her. Crush any pirates at sea that cross their path, board and take their ships. If the Marines ask, they are to say they are on a training exercise. Whoever took her couldn't have gone far. Understood?"
"Yes father," the three chorused.
"Go now. See to it." His sons bowed, and strode out; leaving him alone. Judge arched his back, fists clenched, as fury rose to match his dread.
They had taken his daughter. Someone had the strength, and the skill, and the nerve to kidnap his daughter; to thumb their noses at the Vinsmoke Dynasty. They had robbed him of one of his most precious assets. His Poison Pink.
These kidnappers would be found. And they would pay.
(X)
"Aaaaand…we're down!"
Izuku withdrew his Black Whip, letting his two passengers step away. They were in a forest, with tall smokestacks looming over it in the near distance; gray smoke wafting into the sky.
"Ahhhhh!" Yamato set down her backpack and arched her back, sighing with relief as she stretched. Sora set down her own backpack, and began stretching out her arms and legs in slow, deliberate movements. Izuku watched her for a moment. It was some sort of calisthenics routine.
"Okay! Masks on!" Yamato reached into her backpack and pulled out her Hanya mask, slipping it on. Izuku set his own mask in place, then pulled up his hood.
"Why are you doing that?" asked Sora, looking confused. Izuku paused, surprised by the question.
"Uh…do I look familiar to you at all?" he asked.
Sora furrowed her brow in thought as she looked at the boy, then shook her head. "No, you don't," she replied. Izuku was taken aback. Had she not seen the Wanted poster? "Why do you ask?"
"Well…we've gotten ourselves in trouble…with some powerful people," he said cautiously.
"Are you pirates?" she asked, rather bluntly.
"Oh, uh, no no no!" pleaded Izuku, waving his hands. "We're not pirates! We just…well…we keep getting involved in things." It sounded pathetic even to Izuku. The pink haired girl mused for a moment, her eye going back and forth between the two.
"Can I have a mask too?" Sora asked. "I don't have any money right now, but I can pay you back later."
"It's fine!" Yamato assured her. "We'll get you one!"
"Here, use this." Izuku pulled off his yellow scarf, and held it out to Sora. Sora hesitated a moment, looking at it as if she didn't know what it was. Then she took it, and wrapped it around her face.
They made their way through the forest, heading towards the smokestacks. Izuku felt the air change as they drew closer; the smells of the forest replaced with smoke and oil and metal. It even felt different; thicker, and harder to breathe.
"Pee-eew!" complained Yamato. "This place smells awful!"
"You were wise to wear masks here," said Sora, stepping past them and moving ahead. "And not just to hide your faces."
They reached the tree line. Beyond them lay a wide valley, rising to high hills on either side. At the bottom stood a small town on either side of a river, connected by a stone bridge. Docks lined the riverside, where a few ships and small boats sat at anchor. Atop the opposite hill stood the smokestacks they had been following; surrounded by dark, industrial-looking buildings, and shrouded in gray smog.
And all around them lay a great mass of trash.
The wind blew in Izuku's face. He almost gagged at the smell, despite his mask. He had never seen so much trash, covering the entire hillside. It made that beach All Might made him clean up look like a dropped candy wrapper.
"What…is that?" asked Yamato, sounding as appalled as Izuku felt.
"That is trash," replied Sora, unruffled by the sight. "This island is called Spider Miles; the trash dump of the North Blue. Islands pay to have their trash taken to this place and destroyed."
Izuku's stomach churned as he took it all in. He'd grown up in a city, but Tokyo at its worst had never been as bad as that. Even Doyle, with its 19th century technology, hadn't looked or smelt so bad.
"Are they with the World Government?" he asked.
"Yes, nominally at least," replied Sora. "They can just about make the tribute, but not the Reverie fee. The Marines at Heavensward stop by every now and again to check on the place, but that's about it. They don't want another Doflamingo taking over again."
"Doflamingo?" Yamato perked up. Izuku looked back to Reiju with a raised eyebrow. "As in the Warlord?"
"Don't worry, he's long gone," Sora assured her. "The only pirates around her are small-timers just stopping by. Not worth Heavensward's time, most of them."
"What's Heavensward?" Izuku asked.
"The prominent Marine base in North Blue, and also one of the few ports that has a lift up to the Red Line." Sora explained. "It's within a day's sail of the entrance to the Grand Line. It's effectively a choke point against pirates, and a bastion of justice. At least that's what the government calls it."
Izuku rolled his eyes.
The three headed down the hillside, and into the town. It looked peaceful enough, but even there Izuku could taste the acrid smoke in the air. The stone buildings around him were stained with soot and grime, and the people all looked on-edge, as if something was about to happen; though his Danger Sense was silent.
"You seem to know a lot about North Blue" Izuku mused aloud.
"I was born here. I know what I know." Sora shrugged. "Feel free to ask me anything on this sea too." Her eyebrow curved as she smiled behind her scarf.
"Okay! Shopping time!" declared Yamato cheerfully. "We need to get some things for Sora!"
Izuku jumped, and glanced around. Some locals glanced at Yamato, then went about their business. No one seemed overly bothered.
(X)
They spent an hour or so wandering from shop to shop, buying supplies and equipment. A backpack, jacket, mask, and goggles for Sora, and some medical supplies; especially antivenom.
For Reiju, otherwise known as Sora, it was the strangest hour of her life. She had gone shopping often enough, usually on islands she was scouting. But she had never gone shopping with people before; not like this.
And she was still getting used to her traveling companions. Izuku, otherwise known as En, seemed good-natured enough. But Yamato, otherwise known as Anna, was something else entirely. She was enormous and horned; Reiju could almost believe that she was one of the legendary oni. But she carried on like a hyperactive child; always bouncing around, a great big smile on her face, delighting in every little thing. When they shopped they tried on different masks and jackets on Reiju, Yamato wondering what she would look like.
Had she ever been like that?
With their shopping done, it didn't take them long to find a tavern by the docks; one that provided food and rooms as well as drinks. There were plenty of them in the town; serving the sailors and pirates who frequented the port. Leaving their things in their rooms, they headed down for dinner.
The inn itself was busy; and the customers were mostly pirates. They crowded around the bar or around tables; drinking, laughing, and generally enjoying themselves. Izuku kept glancing nervously at them, while Yamato paid them no mind; cheerfully digging into the enormous spread of meat and seafood she had insisted on ordering. Not that Reiju was complaining. Her companions seemed to have plenty of money, and the food was fairly good.
"Ahhhhhh!" Yamato flopped back in her chair, replete. "Nothing like a good meal after a long trip!"
Izuku did not reply. He was still glancing at the pirates, his eyes shifting from group to group, almost as if he was looking for something. Or else checking them out, seeing which crew was which.
So…not a pirate then. Or at least not comfortable around pirates. Were they running from pirates then? If so, who?
"En, Anna," she prompted, looking awkwardly down at her plate. "Thank you. For the ride, and for this, and for all the stuff you bought me." She had her black face mask on, covering her neck and lower face along with her jacket on. She moved the flap down to sip from her drink.
"Don't sweat it." Izuku smiled a gentle and sincere smile that reached his eyes behind his own metal mask. For an instant her heart clenched. It reminded her of Sanji. "It was our pleasure."
"So what do you plan to do now?" asked Yamato, looking at her with bright interest, the Hanya mask despite looking intimidating, belied the joyful woman behind it.
Reiju faltered, for she had honestly no idea. Where to go? What to do? Who to be, now that she was free?
"I'm not sure," she admitted, acting sheepish. "To be honest, I'm worried about my family. They might come looking for me."
That was putting it mildly.
"You mentioned you didn't want to be in the family business. What's wrong with that?" Izuku inquired.
Reiju faltered. How was she to explain? How did she tell them of what her family was doing? Destroying whole kingdoms for cash; crushing and strip-mining defenseless islands for their resources.
And she had been right at the middle of it.
"I didn't agree with their methods. I just…I wanted to…" Reiju paused. "I wanted to find my own path. after you found me I didn't know what to do next." She gave a sheepish smile. "I never planned I'd get this far to be honest."
"Aside from being stranded on an island?" Yamato lifted her mask up to expose her mouth, and took a swig of beer.
"Well, I didn't exactly plan this in detail," she admitted. "I cleared out in a hurry, got on the next ship out, and the next thing I know I'm stranded on an island with little supplies and no plan. Dumb I know, but life doesn't always go the way you want it to."
Izuku looked at her. His eyes were searching, questioning, but not cold or threatening. They were gentle, sympathetic. It wasn't something she was used to.
"It sounds like you've had a rough time," he mused. "Just who are your family anyway? What have they done to scare you like this?"
Scare her? She supposed he was right. She was scared. She had always been scared. But how to explain? How to tell them?
"Good Evening."
Reiji saw Izuku and Yamato look up, but she had already sensed the presence behind her. A man, with the oily drawl some men seemed to think women founding tempting and seductive. Izuku had his hood on, while Yamato's hanya mask fell into place over her lips with but a tug.
"Can I help you?" she asked dryly, turning in her seat. It was a tall, lanky, dark-skinned man; with a mop of greasy black hair, and a wide rictus grin. He wore a white shirt with long sleeves hanging over his hands, red pants, and a black cloak; the inside lined with green silk decorated with black spots.
"Me and my crew just arrived in this fine establishment," the man went on. "And when I saw you, I just had to introduce myself."
"Oh did you now?" Reiju asked, keeping her manner easy, as her eyes took in every detail. He had a short black beard, and there was a red saltire on his shirt, the tips decorated with what looked like stylized flower petals. Was that his emblem?
"I am the one they call Caribou," the man introduced himself. "Here with my dear bro Coribou, and my noble crew. Won't you come and join us, beautiful lady~?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Izuku's eyes glance to Yamato under his metal mask. Yamato gave the barest of nods.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm eating dinner with friends." Reiju replied. Better to be diplomatic.
"Oh come now, dear lady," drawled Caribou, a sudden edge to his tone. "My good fellows and I can show you a much better time. Why not ditch your little girlfriends and see for yourself?"
Reiju saw Izuku narrow his eyes in her periphery, but most of her attention was on Caribou. She did not like that look in his wild green eyes.
"Sorry," she insisted. "Non-cute men like you don't interest me; especially when they can't take no for an answer."
Gauntlet down. For a few moments Caribou just stared at her, his face a frozen mask.
"Non-cute?" His tone had turned dangerous. "You think we're non-cute? And your little friends are cute?! They're sitting there wearing masks and you think they're cute?!"
He was looming now, his eyes bright green and full of malice. Behind him, Reiji could see a cluster of fat, pale-skinned men watching them intently.
"Yeah!" added one of them. He had green hair, and wore a frilly white shirt. "They're sittin' there wearin' those dumb masks, and she thinks they're cute!"
"Yes thank you, Coribou," hissed Caribou through gritted teeth. "But you're right. I don't take no for an answer."
He planted a sleeve-covered hand on her shoulder. Quick as a whip, Reiji grabbed him by the wrist; squeezing it hard enough to snap the bones.
But nothing happened. There was no crack, no shriek of pain. His wrist just…squidged, as if it were made of mush. She squeezed it again, and again.
And stared, as brown sludge began dripping out of his sleeve.
"Kehihihihihihihihi!" cackled Caribou. "I'm afraid that's not going to work, sweet lady! I ate the Swamp Swamp Fruit, and became a Swamp Man. Fighting me is literally like fighting a swamp! Wet, dirty, and futile!"
"A Logia?" Reiju mused aloud.
"Yeah!" cut in Coribou, as his crewmates chortled. "Fighting big brother's like fighting a swamp! Wet dirty and futile!"
"Yes Coribou! Thank you very much!" snarled Caribou, clearly irritated. "But yes, with this power, I can take whatever I want!" The sludge oozed out of his sleeve, running slowly down Reiju's front. "Just sit right there, and I'll…!"
A blur flashed in front of Reiju; and Yamato's fist slammed into Caribou's nose. For an instant, his entire face distorted around the fist like wet dough, then he flew back; smashing through a window and out into the street in a cloud of broken glass and teeth.
"KEHIIGGGHHHHHHHHRGLGLGLGL!"
"Big brother!" cried Coribou, dashing out after him, followed by his crewmates. "No! He's in the water!"
Reiju stared, hardly daring to believe it.
"She hit him, despite being a Logia?" She murmured aloud.
"All right!" barked the innkeeper, striding up with his fists clenched. "Take it outside! And you can pay for that window right now!"
"Of course! By all means!" pleaded Izuku, bowing hastily. Yamato dashed out through the door, and Reiju followed on. They found themselves out on the docks, with Caribou's rotund pirates clustered on the waterfront ahead of them. They split apart, revealing a freshly fished-out Caribou. He was soaked to the skin, and his nose was a swollen red bulge leaking blood, angled left.
"You've got some nerve," he hissed. A long, serpentine tongue slipped from between his teeth, licking at the blood. "Knocking me into the water like that. Don't you know who I am, you horned gorilla?"
"You, you got some nerve!" Coribou cut in, shaking his fist. "Knockin' big brother into the water like that! Don't you know he's got a Devil Fruit?! Ya gorilla horn!"
"Say, how did she hit the captain into the water?" asked one of his crew.
"How did she hit him in the first place?"
"Wasn't he invincible?"
"He did mention and proved that a while back…"
There was a tense, angry pause; and Caribou turned and glared at his followers. They all shrank back, their speculations spilenced.
"Tch. I just wasn't focused is all! I've got one of the biggest bounties in the North Blue," Caribou went on. "I'm gonna kill you, and both your little friends too! Better start praying, cow-gorilla!"
"Oh yeah?!" retorted Yamato. "And just how big is your bounty anyway?!" Izuku came hurrying out of the inn; the innkeeper watching from the doorway. A crowd was starting to gather, and pirates were watching through the windows.
"My bounty…" hissed Caribou, pausing with unconvincing drama, "is five million Berries!"
There was an extraordinarily long pause.
Silence reigned.
"Heh." Yamato scoffed.
"Pfft." Izuku sputtered.
"Kehi?" Caribou tilted his head.
And then Yamato burst out laughing, leaning in her metal club. Even Izuku was sniggering, his fist over his mask. The crowd, and Caribou's pirates, all stared at her as if she had her underwear on her head.
"Why are they laughing?"
"Five million is a lot…"
"Has she lost it?"
"Isn't that Caribou guy also a serial killer too!"
Caribou ground his teeth, not amused with the peanut gallery.
"Not impressed, eh?!" snapped Caribou. "How about this then?!"
Reiju stared in horror as his chest swelled, and a short-barrelled Gatling Gun emerged from it. Caribou laughed and grabbed the handle, while behind him his crew brought out their own weapons; leveling them at the trio.
Her fingers went to her lips. She could stop them with her poison darts, but she would have to be quick.
"Kehihihihihi!" Caribou laughed again. "Now you…!"
A green blur flashed past him, the wind making his shirt sleeves billow. Caribou raised his hand to cover his face as the wind buffeted him. His crew were not so lucky, as the wind blasted at them from all sides, knocking them screaming into the water. The blur came to a halt, resolving itself into a glaring masked Izuku. Caribou cried out in terror and swung round, aiming the Gatling Gun straight at him.
"Pluuuus…Ultra!"
In a flash, Yamato was upon him, her club catching him in the side and knocking him skyward like a baseball.
"HOME RUUUUN!"
"KEHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-!"
Caribou screamed as he flew away into the sky, flying out of sight.
Yamato spun round, and made a V-sign with her fingers; letting out a giggle. Izuku relaxed, chuckling. The crowd ooohed and ahhhed, and started clapping.
"Big broooooo!" wailed Coribou. He leapt over the dockside, and a moment later they could see him, sitting in a dinghy, paddling frantically out of the harbor; following his brother's flight path. The rest of the crew picked themselves up, glancing nervously at the pair of heroes staring them down; Izuku with his arms crossed, Yamato with her club on her shoulder.
They all turned as white as sheets.
"Y-ya know what, m-maybe being a pirate isn't the best idea!" suggested one of them.
"I-I-I remembered I had some books I needed to return! Ya! A ton of em! E-even ask for a job at the library too!"
"Good." Izuku urged. "Now." His eyes seemed to glow. "Shoo."
And the men all ran in different directions.
"LET'S GET OUTTA HERE!"
"RUN!"
"I'M COMING HOME MA! I'M GONNA BE A DENTIIIIIST!"
"A DENTIST IS A GOOD PROFESSION!" Izuku called out. "There's nothing to be ashamed of in that!" Yamato giggled at his words as the boy sighed, hands on his hips. "Well, that'll teach them. Hopefully now they'll lead good and respectable lives."
"I hope so. Oh, by the way, how was it?" Yamato asked, rubbing the back of her head. "My own Plus Ultra?"
"It…" Izuku gave a thumbs up, eyes curving upward with joy "...was great. He would have been proud." Yamato's geta clacked, as she bounced joyfully around. Reiji stood in silence, too stunned even to move, as around her the crowd clapped and cheered.
"That was amazing!" declared the innkeeper, all smiles now. "Come back inside! Drinks on the house for our heroes!"
"Really!?" She exclaimed.
"Anyone who can calm down or scare pirates can eat for free in my book. Come on in, miss!"
"Yippee!" cheered the masked Yamato, jumping up and down like a child, an absolute far cry from her intimidating hanya mask and wig.
Reiju followed Yamato back towards the inn, barely hearing the cheers of the crowd. Just who were those two? She supposed Yamato might be an oni, but what about Izuku? She had never seen powers like this before; flight, extreme speed, high physical power, those black tendrils.
He had to be involved with Vegapunk somehow. There was no other way.
"Is there anything in particular you'd like?" offered the beaming innkeeper. "Beer? Wine? Spirits? Perhaps you'd like more food? On the house of course!"
"More food?" Somehow, Yamato's already radiant countenance somehow managed to brighten. "Yay! The same again please!"
(X)
Izuku watched, smiling, as Yamato was escorted into the inn by the delighted innkeeper, Sora following behind.
It really had been an awesome move, but that wasn't the main thing. Instead of fear and anger, Yamato was getting cheered and welcomed, by people who were glad of her and grateful to her. It was what she had most yearned for, for almost her whole life. And now, at long last, she was getting it.
"A moment of your time, good sir?"
Izuku paused as he approached the door, and looked around to see who had spoken. Around him, the crowd was dispersing or following Yamato or Reiju inside. No one seemed to be paying him much attention.
Then he saw him. A tall, lean young man with long blonde hair and a narrow face, regarding him with a look of mild curiosity as he sat on a box and leaned against the inn's wall. He wore a white coat that left his chest exposed, and purple trousers tucked into black boots; with what looked like a sword at his hip. The only particularly odd thing about him, compared to what Izuku had seen already, was his eyebrows. They had been shaved off, and replaced with tattoos; two sets of narrow black triangles reaching up his brow.
"Can I help you?" he asked, trying not to sound too cautious.
"I noticed you dispose of those troublesome pirates. Might I read your fortune?" the man asked. He opened one hand, revealing a set of what looked like playing cards.
"My fortune?" Izuku asked, confused.
"You seem a rather interesting fellow," replied the man mildly. "I'm just sating my curiosity."
Izuku stared at him. His Danger Sense wasn't reacting, but he couldn't help but feel something. Was it unease? Or was he just curious himself?"
"I'm En," he greeted the man. "Pleased to meet you." The blonde man gave a rather uneasy smile.
"The pleasure is mine young man, I am Basil Hawkins."
Bet you thought we'd see Law first but nope. Surprise Hawkins.
Big credit to Juubi-K for writing this one up. Big thanks to WildJoker000 and IKnowNothing for their edits too.
But yeah, we make our first familiar stop in North Blue, we send a familiar face flying for being a creeper and now Izuku earns the attention of the resident Tarot reader. I wonder what his fortune could be reading as...
Oh and Judge is pissed, and the Germa shook. Guess they're going to be sent out looking. Too bad they won't have their eyes on the skies. Wonder who's at Heavensward? And some unique things for those who can observe, both telling of the current setting our duo is in, and Izuku giving the scarf to Reiju.
Also good riddance Caribou. You will not be missed you mayonoise huffing ghoul. Not to say he's dead, or he is. Or maybe he's not. He's now in Schrodinger's Box.
Next one Juubi will tackle as well, as next week I'll be on vacation. Also IKN will be doing a lil writing in that too! Hope you all enjoyed, I'll see you in the next one../p