VI
So in the world of One Piece, it is about the year 1520 at the beginning of One Piece. So at this point in this story, it would be about late winter 1521, approximately a year after the first episode/chapter of OP.
o0o0o0o
It was too cold to do it outside, and space was at a premium, so Yolande never bothered to ask for some. She supposed she could have done it in the captain's cabin, but it was a bit cluttered and Arlong could come in anytime.
Besides, it was nice to have a bit of space to call her own – if temporarily – away from the prying eyes of Arlong and his crew. It wasn't much of a space, being down in the cargo hold, but it was quiet and did not get a lot of traffic. She lifted her leg, resting her ankle on a crate as she leaned down, feeling the pull as her chest pressed against her lap. She took several breaths and did her usual count before she lowered her leg, repeating the process with the other leg.
"So this is where my little siren has been hiding," she heard a voice say, and gasped softly, almost falling over. She steadied herself and looked over her shoulder at the sharkman that had claimed her as his, cast into sharp shadow by the sole lamp she'd brought down here. She put her leg down and turned to face him. 'Little' was not something she had been called since childhood, especially since her growth spurt. But next to Arlong – or nearly any man on his crew - It was hard to not feel little.
"Did you need something?" she asked. He smirked at that.
"Perhaps all I want is the pleasure of your company. Although I can think of a better setting than this."
She gave a small snort at that. "I just wanted a space for exercise. I presume that's not a problem, Captain?"
"I know some of my men sneak down here for other reasons. I can hardly object to you wanting to stretch your legs."
"Other reasons…" Her eyes widened as she realized what Arlong was referring to. Yeah, yeah, that made a lot of sense. Space being at a premium meant that privacy was, as well. "I suppose not everyone is as fortunate to have a proper bed like you, Captain Arlong," she added dryly. Most of the fishmen got hammocks. She had to admit it, but she shared their sentiment about getting a larger ship.
"And not everyone is fortunate enough to have a siren. Continue." He gave her an imperious wave of his hand like she was here to perform for him. She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. She'd come down here with a long-sleeved shirt but had warmed up through her exercises and was now clad in a tank top and the navy pants Hatchan gave her on her first night on the ship, rolled up just below the knees.
Not a very sexy outfit, but Arlong didn't seem to care about that. She sighed and turned her back to him, lifting her leg again as she felt his gaze on her. She tried to pretend he wasn't there as she did several more stretches, raising her hands above her head. She was almost done with her session, anyway.
"You're quite limber. Do you dance?"
She turned to him. "I had a friend who was a dancer. She taught me some things. But I do it for myself. I don't perform," she replied pointedly. She had not been here for that long, but it was clear that Arlong was a dominant personality, and she didn't want him to get into the habit of bossing her around.
He smirked at that. "Well, at least these exercises keep you flexible for me."
"Hmph." She could not help but roll her eyes a little at that. "I do this to take care of myself. Although it certainly does help me handle your appetite."
"How can I not hunger for you? You're my siren," he said, a possessive edge creeping into his voice. Damn if that didn't get her a little hot, and it wasn't the heat that came from a good exercise. She picked up her discarded shirt and pulled the worn dance slippers off her feet so she could put on her socks and boots. She looked up at Arlong, his nose and chin looking even sharper with the shadows thrown across it.
Oh yes, she'd figured out a fair amount of things about him, but much of her mate remained shrouded in mystery. Their gazes locked.
-Curiosity, greed, lust, affection, possessiveness, protectiveness, confusion-
She moved across the floor, standing before him. Even sitting on a crate, his head was level with hers. She placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning to the left side of his face, giving him a nuzzle. Although she responded to his advances in the past, this was the first time she initiated it, and she wondered how he would respond. She heard a short hum of pleasure as she felt his hands slide to her sides. She smiled to herself and placed several kisses on his temple and cheek.
"Let's go to bed, hmm?" she asked with a gentle purr. "I'm all warmed up for you."
He tilted his head, looking at her, careful to not touch his nose to her cheek as he did so. She felt his hands slide around her waist before he picked her up, holding her against his left shoulder. She smiled at that and nuzzled the side of his face and neck, nibbling along his ear as he walked out of the hold. She only stopped when he emerged onto the deck, burying her face against his shoulder and growling playfully against his skin.
It was the gentlest he'd ever been with her. He handled her more mindfully than she ever recalled of him.
Well. It looked like Arlong could be tamed – for a time, anyway. Thank goodness for that, she mused as she glanced down at the bite mark on her thigh that he'd given her several days ago. She accepted the water he offered her before he sat in the bed, pulling up the blankets and reclining on his side. She ran her fingers along his chest, tracing the sun on his left chest. He rested there quietly, his body warm against hers.
"Will you hold me?" she asked. A strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. She buried her face against his chest. This man was complicated as fuck. He was a bully at times, even to his own crew, but at the same time, he cared about them, and they followed and respected him, especially the Big Three. She didn't doubt he'd committed crimes in the past, but she was not sure how much she needed or wanted to know. He'd hurt others, but he'd been hurt plenty enough.
Abandoned by his father after his mother died. Growing up in the slums, and seeing humans make their way to Fishman Island so they could kidnap and enslave merfolk and fishmen. Seeing his former captain killed by Marines because he freed slaves. Yeah, any sane person would be pissed off over that.
But there was plenty Arlong wasn't telling her. Instinct told her that. He was not one to let pain go. Which she understood all too well if she was being honest with herself. Grievance, vendetta, rage, vengeance. She tried to push that out of her mind as she listened to his heartbeat and breathing.
o0o0o0o
Even in an old tank top and oversized navy pants, she still looked sexy as hell when he came across her doing her stretches by the light of a lamp. She'd been disappearing for a time every day and his curiosity got the better of him.
Even without the pull of their bond, Arlong came to realize that he was coming to respect her for who she was, not simply because she was his siren. Sure, he enjoyed the sex and was thrilled that she had some useful skills. But sometimes he couldn't get it out of his head that she was half-human. Sometimes he would tug the collar of her shirt to see her gills as if to reassure himself.
Then he would remember that she did not hesitate to help Chew or the other ill fishmen. Or helping them secure the best deals in the marketplace, and she'd done all that before meeting him. And even if they had disagreements, she still treated him with respect and deferred to his position as captain when it came to the ship or crew. She was trying her best to be unobtrusive here among people she barely knew.
She wasn't someone who wanted to be noticed, he realized. When complimented, she usually just ducked her head instead of beaming at it. Whatever pain she carried, she was more used to projecting that inward where Arlong projected it outward – or at least, that's what he would have deduced if he was self-aware enough. And there was pain, plenty of it, which she had only hinted at.
All she knew of her past was her birthday and that her mother was human, disappearing after the birth. His father might have been a jerk who was willing to abandon both of his children, but at least Arlong knew who he was, which was more than Yolande could say about the man who'd sired her. What little she cared to divulge about her childhood was surprisingly similar to some of the experiences he'd had as a child in the Fishman District. The competition for food and resources. The lax involvement and/or casual cruelty from adults. The orphans essentially forming gangs and carving out niches where they could.
He ran his fingers along her hair as she curled up to him. One thing they didn't have in common was that he'd had a mentor take him under his wing while she'd run away from the orphanage and scrapped for herself. He recalled the jagged teeth and the scarred face of the sharkman who took him under his wing… or more appropriately, fin.
Hone your pain and rage, and use it as a weapon, Ajkul told him, whispering these words among others into Arlong's ear, and the angry shark boy who'd been abandoned by his father was all too eager to listen to this new father figure. Let that bitterness stew in you. Carry it forward. Slavery might be illegal, but you see how humans come here to plunder the Fishman District anyway! They fear us and that's why they continue to enslave us. We are the superior race and humankind has striven for so long to keep us underfoot.
How quickly he'd swallowed up all these words, and why not? Wasn't it true that humans usually came to the Fishman District for nefarious purposes? They had to stick together to protect one another. Kuroobi had joined him easily enough, and Hatchan with him. They came across Chew, recently orphaned and dumped, struggling against humans trying to kidnap him.
And then there was Jinbei, and Fisher Tiger, among others. He looked down, seeing her hand resting lightly on the sun mark on his chest. He recalled the branding well – he'd been willing, of course, but even with his superior fishman strength, it still hurt like a sonofabitch.
He glanced at the scar that snaked along the back of Yolande's left shoulder. Much as his brand had hurt, he didn't doubt that her pain had to be excruciating given the scope of her own burn scar. His gaze moved to her face, partially pressed against his chest. His thumb slid along her cheek, and she let out a contented murmur. Her eyelid fluttered open and she sat up quickly.
"I told Hachi I'd help him make lunch," she said as she started to climb over him. He tutted at her, grabbing her hips and pulling her close, not wanting to be parted from her just yet. She smiled at him, and he smirked back at her, brushing the hair from her neck, the midday light filtering in making her seem paler, her gills standing out more sharply.
"A man with six hands needs your help?" he teased.
"There's still a lot of mouths to feed, and we're making chili."
"What's that?"
"It's basically a stew, made with tomatoes and beans… and a lot of beef."
His smirk widened into a grin, and he relinquished his grip on her. As she climbed off the bed, he gave her backside a light, playful smack, feeling quite pleased with everything at this moment. Nothing like a good meal after a satisfying fuck. Right now, he was devoid of the boredom, guilt, anger, and loneliness that often drove him to drink away his sorrows.
"Good girl," he purred without thinking. She spun around at him, glaring.
"I told you to not call me that."
The mood shifted and he sat up, growling at her. "it was a compliment!"
"No! NO!" Her nostrils flared as she glared at him.
-Humiliation, rage, shame, hatred, want to hurt, want to kill, make it stop make it stop make it stop-
Arlong blinked. He saw unshed tears in her eyes. "Go help Hachi," he muttered, looking away.
o0o0o0o
Hatchan was browning several large skillets of beef per the instructions he'd been given when Yolande entered the kitchen, looking downcast as she pulled on an apron and set to work.
"What's wrong?" he asked as she started tossing the ingredients for the sauce into a bowl. She sighed and shook her head.
"Nothing I can't handle."
"… He didn't hurt you?" Hatchan whispered, starting to feel anger well up.
"Just my feelings."
He regarded her with a sympathetic wince. Even though he was one of Arlong's longtime friends, he was not spared from the sharkman's biting tongue. "Hmm. Would you like me to tell you a story? You told me a good one last time, and I'd like to return the favor."
He was gratified to see her eyes gleam at that and smiled at her. It was a popular one in the Fishman District, for stories were one of the refuges from the trials and tribulations of growing up poor.
"… there was once this hunchback who was the jester of the King of the Sea. He was a cheery and much-loved fellow and had many friends, so he was often invited to dinner at other people's houses. One night, he was invited to the home of the tailor and his wife. The poor fellow choked on a bone and perished at the table.
Accidents happen, but the hunchback was a great favorite of the King, and the couple feared reprisal if it were discovered that the poor fellow died in their home. So they take him several houses over, leaving him on the physician's doorstep, knocking on the door, and running off.
The physician opens the door, which causes the hunchback to roll down the stairs. Thinking he killed the poor man, the physician bemoans his fate, but like the tailor, thinks quickly and moves the body several more doors down, dumping him in the yard so he's taken for a robber. The steward rushes out and clubs the corpse on the head…."
Hatchan grinned as he heard Yolande titter, and continued the story, "...and doesn't want the responsibility of dealing with contacting the city guard, so when no one is looking, he props the corpse up in the street. One of the King's officials is drunk and walking down the street, he walks into the body and thinks it's trying to mug him so he hits it several times. But then he recognizes the hunchback and is terrified, wondering what is to become of him as he is arrested. He is brought to the King who decides he is to be executed.
The other men came forward to take responsibility, and each told their story of what happened that night. The king is so amused that he lets them all go, saying that the hunchback brought others joy in life, and even though it was inadvertent, he did it again with his death."
"I'm certain I heard a version of that story from humans. But I like your version better," she said as the two of them added the ingredients to several large pots. He watched as she added the sauce she'd made of spices, water, and flour, imbuing the stew with a rich flavor.
"How do you get your spice so strong?" Hatchan asked. He'd seen the bottles of oils and powders she had, extracts from this or that, and she added less than what he would have, yet the flavors were rich.
"Chemistry," she replied with a pleased smile as she stirred the pot with a spoon.
"It's gotta be more than that," he replied with a small laugh.
"A magician doesn't reveal their secrets."
"Nyu?"
"But maybe I'll tell you someday."
The scent of chili filled the kitchen and wafted into the mess hall as it simmered. Hatchan was content to remain in the kitchen, giving the pots an occasional stir while Yolande kept him company – though he was sure that was just as true the other way around. He told her about Fishman Island and sneaking to Sabaody with his friends to see the lights of the park.
"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she murmured. Hatchan remembered his joy at coming to the park with Camie and the Straw Hats. The treats, the rides… part of him had wished that Arlong and the others were there to enjoy the fulfillment of his childhood dream.
"Nyu?"
"On the outside, it looks like fun. I get it. But I've been there, and if you pay attention, you see the ugliness underneath all that glitz and glamour."
He held back a sigh, remembering the slaves. The fulfillment of a childhood dream did not guarantee happiness, especially after Camie had been kidnapped. And then afterward, though he'd tried to hide, his affiliation with the Straw Hats and his race drew unwanted attention. Who would have thought that he'd end up finding Arlong when he was trying to help the Straw Hats?
He took one of the bowls, filling it with chili for Arlong before setting it before the captain. More bowls were handed out and the fishmen settled down for a meal of hot chili.
"Where's she?" Arlong asked after several moments. Hatchan looked around.
"In the kitchen, I guess?" Hatchan asked.
"Go get her."
Hatchan slunk back into the kitchen, seeing his friend sit quietly at the counter. "Are you all right?" he asked, touching her shoulder. She looked up at him, on the verge of bursting into tears, and instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her. She held back her tears, but he felt her tremble, and he tightened his embrace as she buried her face against his shoulder. After a few moments, she pulled back.
"I'm not feeling very hungry. I think I'll just step outside for some fresh air."
"Arlong wants you."
She narrowed her eyes and he shrugged helplessly. She let out a soft groan and rose from her seat and walked past him.
"You wanted me?" she asked quietly as she stood in front of him while he was eating. Hatchan tried to hear what they were saying. Even though he couldn't make out the words, he heard Arlong's soft but impatient snarl. She said something, and he waved her off.
Hatchan said nothing as she stepped outside, anger simmering as he worked his way through a bowl of chili. Mmm, that was tasty. When Arlong finished his meal, Hatchan took him aside. He'd been thinking about what to say while he ate. Arlong had always been what one could call 'prickly', and the octopus man had become so used to it, but after spending time apart from Arlong, he understood how problematic it was.
"You need to be careful," Hatchan whispered. "She's your siren."
Arlong shot him an irritated glare. "What business is it of yours?" He narrowed his eyes. "What did she tell you?"
"Nothing. She didn't want to talk about it."
The sharkman took a deep breath, and Hatchan could swear he saw relief flash across that sharp, angular face for a moment. "A trivial matter."
"It wasn't trivial to her." And not so trivial to me, either, Hatchan mused. Arlong was far more used to sending verbal barbs at people – regardless of race – than he was to considering other people's feelings or practicing empathy. He thought of Nami and the casual cruelty he had thrown the cartographer's way over the years.
"Why should that bother you so much? She's my mate, not yours."
"She's my friend," Hatchan replied in a quiet but firm tone.
"You've always been the softest of us," Arlong said. Hatchan frowned at that, and the sharkman smirked coldly. "You think I would mistreat my siren? Bah, all relationships have issues."
"Nyu," Hatchan replied quietly. Arlong turned away.
o0o0o0o
It had been a good while since she'd had a panic attack this severe. Most of the time, she could keep her past buried, giving it as little regard as her subconscious would allow, but on occasion, something would happen that would send it all crashing down on her like a tipped-over bookshelf. The first time Arlong had said it, it'd been easy to shrug off, but this morning...
Be a good girl, and they'll take care of you. You'll be fine! Good girl. Such a good girl. Who's a good girl? Be a good girl and shut up. Good girls don't cry. That's a good girl. She's a good girl, isn't she? Say your prayers like a good girl. Good girls don't ask questions. Good girls obey.
Yolande opened her eyes and stared down at the deep blue of the South Blue. Her stomach still hurt like it always did when she had a severe attack, her appetite blasted to smithereens despite the tempting smell of one of her favorite dishes cooking. Her hands trembled as she held tightly onto the wooden railing. She thought of Hatchan and his story – and what a welcome distraction that had been. But now that she was alone, she seemed unable to stave off what so many people would call inner demons.
Good girl…
"No!" she hissed. It'd been so many years. Yet all the voices that called her a good girl whispered to her in the darkest recesses of her memory. A soft whimper warbled from her throat as she clenched her teeth, trying to focus on the cold she felt on her face and hands to distract herself from what was happening beneath her skin.
She lifted her head when she heard the creak of wood behind her. She stilled, barely breathing as she felt a large hand rest on top of her head.
"It's cold out here," Arlong said in a quiet rumble. "I'll take you inside and warm you up."
She said nothing, sinking her head between her shoulders, burying her chin within the collar of her jacket as if she were a turtle trying to retreat within its shell.
"Don't be like that," he tutted. "There's no reason for you to be out here when it's so cold."
"I've spent most of the last decade dealing with the cold. I'm used to it."
Without a word, he scooped her up by wrapping an arm around her middle. She gave out a squeal of protest, and he wrapped his other arm around her, pinning her arms to her sides. After living with humans for so long and having to be careful about her fishman strength, it took some getting used to dealing with someone significantly stronger than her. She twisted against him, but he growled at her, tightening his grip.
He wasn't going to try to… was he? Her heart thudded in her chest.
He slammed the cabin door shut before tossing her onto the bed, and she flinched away from him.
"What the hell are you moping around and crying for?" he asked as he had the chance to look at her tear-streaked face. "Is this because of what I said earlier?" he barked.
"… Yes."
"Why?" he demanded. She opened her mouth but could make nothing come out. If he could just leave her alone so she could collect herself, but no, he had to exacerbate the situation by closing in on her, cornering her on the bed.
"Stop, please stop!" she managed to choke out. He grabbed her chin, forcing her face up. She refused to make eye contact, looking beyond his shoulder through a haze of fresh tears.
"If you won't talk about it, perhaps a good fuck will perk up your mood."
"No."
"...No?!" His grip on her chin tightened, and she let out a small whimper.
"Please." The knot in her stomach was so tight she was almost certain it'd bleed. His grip was inexorable, and she lifted her hands, trying to dislodge his hand from her face. Suddenly, he let her go and rose to his feet, leaving her shivering.
"Collect yourself, then," she heard him say before his footsteps receded and the door slammed shut. She collapsed back on the bed, closing her eyes and crying quietly.
o0o0o0o
The relationships Arlong had in the past had been casual. He'd enjoy himself, the mermaid or fishwoman would have a good time, and they'd part ways. Not always without drama, but whatever. He'd never dealt with anything like this, not even when his sister was young enough to throw tantrums or wake up crying from a nightmare.
Fucking hell. She was also making him feel things he simply didn't understand or causing him to feel emotions he preferred to suppress or ignore. Had the other fishmen who'd had sirens ever felt like this?
He made his way to where Shioyaki kept the alcohol, grabbing a bottle of sake and taking a long, angry swig, feeling the high-proof burn down his throat. A human would have passed out from drinking the contents of that bottle, but Arlong tilted his head as he felt the warmth of the alcohol suffuse him.
o0o0o0o
She sat in Arlong's chair, staring blankly at the compass and Log Poses on the desk, a book in her lap. She'd tried reading one of her favorite books but got easily distracted by her wandering thoughts. The peace in here was nice, with the conversations and work of the fishmen being muffled by the walls that surrounded her. But she still felt restless. If she was still on the island, she would have gone for a walk, but that wasn't an option here unless she wanted to pace back and forth on the ship. She looked out the window at the water.
It was cold but… fuck it. It was better than being cooped up in the cabin. Several minutes later, she emerged onto the deck wearing nothing but a shirt and shorts, much to the surprise of the few fishmen on deck. She went over to the side of the ship, looking down at the water before climbing over the railing.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she heard Mido call out.
"Going for a swim," she replied cheerily. "I figure it's a lovely day to go into the water." Before anyone could stop her, she dove into the water, bracing herself for the coldness that slammed into her.
After the initial shock, she found the cold bracing, and swam alongside the ship, reveling in her freedom of movement as she sliced through the water. It'd been a while since she'd swum, and despite the temperature, she welcomed the freedom of moving through the water.
She'd been sickly as a child, and being an orphan certainly didn't help, but the first time she'd swum, it was as if the sea injected her with fresh life. And this time was no exception. Seeing the sea through half-lidded eyes, she propelled herself forward, noticing the cold less. Soon enough she barely felt it, and did several loops and spins, losing herself in the sensation of freedom.
To keep warm, she had to keep moving, and she reveled in the burn in her muscles as she moved through the cold water as quickly as she could.
o0o0o0o
"Hey, your siren just went into the water," he heard one of his fishmen say. He looked up, blinking as he focused on the words amidst the buzz he'd drunk himself into.
"In the water? She jumped off the ship?" He stood up, feeling a moment of dizziness from the drink. Fucking hell, was she trying to escape? Panic and anger overwhelmed him.
"Should I go after her?" Kuroobi asked with a terse, resigned tone. Arlong glanced at his nakama and shook his head. He'd do it himself this time, and with a soft growl, stepped outside, removing most of his clothing except for his pants before he jumped into the water, bracing himself.
The cold certainly was quite a shock after sitting in relative warmth and getting drunk. However, it didn't take long for him to find Yolande, blinking as he saw her in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts. She turned as he approached her, and he reached out to grab her arm.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" he demanded.
"I'm just swimming," she said placidly. He stared at her, blinking as his grip tightened. "Oh, you thought I was running away? If I were, do you think I'd do that with just the clothes on my back?"
"It's fucking cold!"
"I wanted to go for a swim, but beggars can't be choosers, eh?"
He tugged at her arm, but she resisted. He growled at her. She put her hand on his wrist, squeezing it.
"Come swimming with me. I promise it gets better."
Arlong shivered, thinking of the warm blanket that awaited him on the ship. How the hell was this half-human so comfortable in the water when it was this cold? As she stared at her for several moments, she spun around and swum away, diving deeper.
He went after her, seriously considering simply grabbing hold of her and dragging her back to the ship. Damn girl. As he pumped through the water, he noticed that the effort provided some distraction from the cold. He slid past her, looking over his shoulder at her with a smirk. She might be only half-fishman, but her speed in the water was respectable, and water pressure did not seem to be an issue as they dove deeper, the sunlight providing excellent illumination.
Through the blueness of the sea, Yolande's skin looked almost green. She pumped her legs and body, trailing after him as he coaxed her along with a smirk. Now that he was more relaxed in the cold, the buzz seemed to be coming back, and he beckoned to her with a finger, slowing down just enough for her to close the distance between their bodies. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms, feeling the goosebumps along her skin.
He made a slow loop back to the surface, shivering as he jumped out of the water with Yolande slung across his shoulder. He shook his hair and squared his shoulders, shuddering as he carried her to his cabin. A half-human hybrid was more comfortable in these frigid waters than he was. The near-decade in the Conomi Islands really had caused him to go soft, hub?
But damn, these times had been good. Enjoying the tropical weather, collecting the tributes, enjoying the easy life after years of hardship. He peeled off his wet pants and left them on the floor, he'd worry about that later as he grabbed a towel and started rubbing himself dry as quickly as he could. She watched him, and he smirked as he realized he had the only towel in the room. She was rubbing her arms and he grinned as his eyes moved along her naked and shivering body, but he tossed her the towel before pulling on his other pair of pants and draping one of the blankets over his shoulders, sitting in his chair.
"I don't want you swimming alone. You never know when you're going to run across a Sea King or another hostile creature."
She stared at him for a moment, but simply shrugged in assent as she hastened to dry herself off, and he studied her back and the scar on it as she picked out a shirt and pants.
"Come over here," he said, patting his lap. He was still feeling a little cold. She stared at him for a moment, and he glared at her impatiently.
"Woman, I stayed in the damn cold water and swam with you. Get your ass here and warm me up," he said firmly.
"I suppose 'please' is no more a part of your vocabulary than 'sorry'," she muttered, but obeyed him, and he hooked his arms around her after wrapping the blanket around their bodies.
"I am the captain of this ship and crew," he reminded her with a soft growl. "My word is law." he stared down at her as if daring her to make a retort.
"Aye, aye, captain," she replied dryly before she tucked the blanket under her chin, resting her head on his chest. He smirked in triumph and sat there, savoring the warmth as the minutes trickled by and the shiver retreated from his body. As he shifted around in the chair that was slightly too small for his frame, he could not help but recall the large white chair he had at Arlong Park. What would it have been like if he came across Yolande while he still had Arlong Park? He envisioned her in a swimsuit, draped across his lap and sipping tangerine juice as he sat in that chair, looking over his domain.
Bah. He stared around at the cabin. Like many things he claimed in the past decade, it was stolen. The former captain deserved it, showing such disdain for fishmen.
But he knew there were those who would think his response to that was excessive. Or how his crew handled the Marines who'd taken them into custody. Plenty of bloodshed, and drowned souls. Arlong had the choice to spare them, but he let his fear and rage guide his decisions as he had so often done in the past.
But then, hadn't humans all too often treated fishmen excessively in the past? Hadn't he seen that with his own eyes?
Humans have hated the folk of the sea ever since time immemorial. They dump garbage in our waters. They enslave our people. And even if they offer friendship, they find ways to exploit you. Humans can not be trusted, and deserve all the hatred we can offer them. Remember that, Arlong heard Ajkul's voice. How well he remembered the lean and twisted body. The dorsal fin that had a good chunk lopped off it in some long-ago battle. If hatred was something that could keep people alive, Ajkul seemed to have discovered it. Arlong wasn't sure exactly how old the old sharkman was, and Ajkul had never told him, but he was quite old. Old enough to have accumulated an incredible amount of hate.
There was plenty of reason to hate. He'd not only seen it, he'd lived it. Even after Akjul died before Arlong was a teenager, his words lived on in Arlong's memory, and Arlong repeated them to the children of the Fishman District. So many of them eagerly swallowed his words, gathering around him as he told them of how unworthy humans were, how fishmen were the superior race, able to walk on land and swim in the sea. Humans didn't want them on land and even went into the sea to persecute and enslave them.
He recalled the fine tower of Arlong Park, a testament to his disdain toward the humans. He had wrested an island, and eventually more, from humans, giving his nakama land to walk on and enjoy themselves.
The humans had been so easy to subjugate. More towns, more income, more power. Such an easy and profitable life. Relaxing in the pools of Arlong Park or sitting in his chair, holding court. Having parties and banquets with his crew. Terrorizing the humans, keeping them under heel, just as the Celestial Dragons and so many other worthless humans had done to fishmen and merfolk in the past. Sinking pirate and Marine ships alike that dared to encroach upon his territory.
He didn't call himself a king or emperor, but he certainly had felt like one sometimes. Then his empire crashed down on him because of that stupid rubber kid and his friends.
He would never forget how the building collapsed on him, having a greater impact on him than he would have expected. Otherwise, the Marines never would have been able to take him into custody. The chains… the cells… the taunting. He'd participated in the destruction of Marine vessels and their crews and how it rankled to be a prisoner, hearing the mocking comments and pondering a second – and assuredly permanent – tenure at Impel Down.
He'd been in that place for nearly two years. Which was a relatively short time compared to many other prisoners, but it'd felt like an eternity. Especially since he had been certain he'd meet his end in the legendary prison. He remembered the feeling of rage and failure, of having fallen short in providing them a safe place and then they were all headed to that damn prison with him.
Arlong was a prideful man. And so was the Marine captain who led the team ferrying him and his crew to Enies Lobby. The sharkman had been able to exploit that, snatching himself and his nakama from the grip of the Marines and the World Government.
After the hell of Impel Down, there'd been the heaven of Arlong Park. And now… what? He looked down at the siren in his lap, tightening his embrace around her.