Absence, chapter 9, part 1
Apr. 9th, 2011 01:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainsometimesHere's chapter 9 of my ever-so-slow-going-but-certainly-not-abandoned WIP Absence. Assuming my plan holds, there is now only two chapters and a possible epilogue to go.
This is now a divergence AU and has been so since February last year when manga chapter 574 came out. Here, events at Marineford happened differently (for details, see chapter 7, part 1 with spoilers for the real events), which in turn makes this Luffy a somewhat different person than he is in canon now – maybe not quite as mature under the surface (though events at Sabaody were still the same).
Concrit is, as always, very welcome.
Very big thanks go totonko, who's gone way over and above normal beta duties for this one - besides all her usual tireless edits, she was firm and clear when pointing out where I'd gotten quite a bit off-track for one scene. Then she patiently helped me through my subsequent block and confusion with excellent suggestions that I was happy to pick up and use when rewriting the scene. ♥♥♥
Title: Absence, chapter 9, part 1/2
Previous chapters: Chapter One here, fic tag here; the whole fic on AO3 here
Rating: PG for language and dark themes; part 2 PG-13 for even coarser language
Warning For major angst and sadness
Summary: The crew copes with loss. Luffy doesn’t take it well (for more, see the ‘What has gone before’ section right behind the cut).
Characters: Strawhats
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE: In a battle where seakings fought alongside Marines against the ambushed Strawhats, Nami witnessed Usopp being killed or lethally wounded by an extremely large and fierce seaking, subsequently slain by Luffy. The Strawhats, in shock and outnumbered, retreated from the island where it happened before they had a chance to find the body.
Ever since waking up after the battle, Luffy seems to have completely forgotten Usopp ever existed, not even reacting to his name when spoken. (He also forgot Going Merry in a similar way.) However, as time goes on he has taken on some of Usopp’s traits as his own, and has also become extremely protective of the rest of the crew, to the point where he insists on taking on all the fighting himself. The grieving crew wants Luffy sane again, and decided in council to turn back to the island where the death occurred, hoping both to give Usopp a real funeral and that the return will trigger Luffy’s memories. They kept this decision secret from Luffy for days.
In chapter 6, the crew came upon a tiny remnant of the very Marine force they last faced – now deserters severely down on their luck. After some extremely tense moments, Nami decided to trade with them, among other things giving them the crew’s log pose and instead receiving an Eternal Pose set for the island they’re heading for. When Luffy woke up and confronted Nami about this, she came clear about their current destination. He didn't like this, but Nami and the crew persisted. Luffy reacted by withdrawing from the others, hardly speaking to them for the rest of the journey. There's been signs of cracks in his mental shield since then, as he's come to half-remember Going Merry.
Nami finds out that the island – sometimes called "Turnweed Isle" – used to be famous for a tribe of merfolk living outside it who were known to be great healers, but they might not be around anymore. Zoro, speaking to Brook, voices his apprehensions about the crew's future: they will need a good sniper to survive, he knows. Brook tells Zoro of the argument he overheard between Luffy and Usopp on the island.
They reach the island late one evening and stay on board for the night, ready to disembark the next morning on the opposite of the island from last time.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of One Piece were created by Eiichiro Oda - surely one of the most brilliant makers of boys' adventure comics in existence - and are owned by him and Shueisha Inc. They are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fanfic will not be used for profit and may not be reproduced anywhere without the author's approval.
Luffy looked down at the crew from the crow's nest, shivering despite the hot weather. He saw them wandering around, looking over their packs, picking things up and locking the doors of the ship; talking in low tones and in small gestures. Franky was already standing over by the helm where he could activate the Docking System. They were going to cross over in that small ship, going back and forth several times until they'd all made land. Sometimes one of them would look up towards him, then turn away again.
They probably weren't sure if he was going to come with them or not.
He knew they thought he didn't understand. That it was no use trying to explain to him.
But Luffy did understand. He understood very well that there was a great, gaping abyss inside him, something he'd tried hard for days, weeks, ages not to fall into, scrambling and running. He knew that the darkness had come from this island, and that if he got ashore, he probably wouldn't be able to escape it.
And he also understood that his crewmates were trying to push him into that very abyss. He didn't understand why they would want to do that; but maybe the why didn't even matter much, in the end. Not when they wouldn't listen to him.
A captain that nobody listened to wasn't really a captain at all. Maybe he wasn't even anyone.
He didn't have to go ashore with the others, though. They couldn't make him, could they? He could stay on board and protect the ship. It wasn't right to leave Sunny unguarded...
There was a deep hole right there, when he thought we need to protect the ship; with an acid taste in his mouth, he shook his head violently, trying to force his mind back.
He hugged his shaking knees and bit his knuckles until the darkness pulled back, but not all the way back - it was still closer than before. His stomach was burning - maybe he would have to throw up soon.
They were all going to the island and he couldn't stop them. Even if he could have knocked all of them out at once (and he probably wouldn't be able to), that wouldn't make them change their minds once they woke up. And maybe they would all fall into that same dark abyss and then he'd be all alone, like on Sabaody; and nothing would matter anymore.
Shifting position and stretching out his legs, his toe pushed against a hard, flat object lying in a cobwebbed corner. Luffy took up whatever it was and tilted his head as he looked at it. He blinked, then squatted down on the floor to see if there were any more things of the same kind around, but couldn't find any.
It's mine. I should have this.
He got up again without bothering to dust himself off and shoved the object deep into his pocket. Then he opened the hatch and started to climb down.
*
The sudden movement made Nami look up, then flinch as Luffy landed on the deck not far from where she was standing.
She had just finished adjusting her pack and was waiting with the others on the lawn deck for Franky to bring out the Mini-Merry. They'd take turns crossing over in it.
Everyone carried one backpack, with standard provisions for exploring an island. Quite possibly they wouldn't have much of an appetite over there; but they had no idea how long it would all take and Sanji had felt it was best to be careful. For the same reason, Brook and Franky were carrying blankets as well, just in case they couldn't get back to the ship before dark. In addition, there was a white sheet rolled up tightly in Zoro's pack, Nami knew; and both Sanji and Franky carried a spade strapped to their packs.
Though she wasn't sure if Franky was coming. He had been the most outwardly restless of them during these morning hours, walking up and down, back and forth all over the ship, now and then setting up what he claimed were traps to attack any intruder; now and then disabling them again, muttering about flaws. He would put down his pack and even start to unpack it, then abruptly shoulder it again before disappearing into the depths of the ship, checking up and tinkering and who-knew-what... he'd also seemed a lot clumsier than normal, tripping and bumping into things. Nerves, maybe? Nami wanted him to go with the rest of them, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Sunny alone either. So she had no solution to offer. The more important thing was getting Luffy to come along with them. But would he?
Her fingers were trembling again, and yet she didn't feel as nervous as she'd thought she'd be. Not really numb, either. Just - a little off, a little floating on the surface of things, half in the daze of the dream she'd had woken up from this morning, though she could barely remember it now. Only a persistent sense of there being someone very, very close by who kept reaching for her; who kept calling her, but so quietly it could hardly be heard at all.
And she had a feeling she'd tried to reach back, in the dream, groping and fumbling in a fuzzy white light. She'd stood in a narrow white hallway somewhere she didn't recognise. Had there been secret passages behind the walls, mystery panels she hadn't known how to open?
She ought to have known: she was the mapmaker. She was accountable. The hand she couldn't reach, the voice she could neither hear clearly nor manage to answer - they had both been entirely, utterly close. Too close.
But anyway. She shook her head trying to clear it, still watching Luffy warily. At that moment, Franky turned the lever, cogs and wheels rumbled within the ship's Docking System and the big hatch opened below, Mini-Merry sliding out onto the waves.
"Don't go there," said Luffy tensely, immediately stopping all movement in the crew. He was standing ramrod straight and looking at all of them intensely. "Stay here. Don't GO there, guys!" he repeated, trembling now.
Nami exchanged looks with the others, opened her mouth to speak, but Sanji was faster.
"We have to, Luffy," he said, not unkindly, bending down to take up his pack, then walked over to the railing. "It's time."
"Right," said Nami, and the others assented, or at least nodded.
Luffy turned around, his back to them. He crossed his arms. "Are you going to leave Sunny alone?" he demanded, his voice sounding both harsh and brittle.
"Ah... Well... That's..." Nami started, then fell silent, not knowing what to say. Yes, it did make sense for one or two of them to stay behind and guard the ship... but it didn't feel right. They should all come ashore, she felt very clearly.
"I could stay..." Robin offered now.
Franky waved this aside with a wide gesture, then swooped his hand towards the Mini-Merry. "Nah. If anyone should stay, it should be me. Not you, babe." He sat down on the top of the staircase leading from the helm towards lawn deck, scratching his chest and looking at his captain.
"I already thought about it, Strawhat," he continued. "This way and that, all through the morning. And you know what? Each time I'd decided I'd stay, I'd freaking trip over something, or bump into things, or bust up stuff... I swear, half the time it felt like the ship was tripping me up on purpose!" He sighed, stretched his long mecha arms and then patted the wood next to him. "I don't think Sunny wants me to stay," he said simply. "Think she wants me to go over to the island with the rest of us. But if you say the word, I'll stay."
Luffy looked up at Franky, his face unreadable.
Chopper cleared his throat, then said cautiously, "Luffy... what do you want to do? Do you want Franky to stay here? Or... d-do you want to stay here and guard the ship? Instead of coming with us?" He leaned his head to the side, watching Luffy carefully and taking a small step towards the railing.
Luffy gave him a wild, hard, oddly stiff look, but first said nothing as he walked over to the railing to look at Mini-Merry. Standing there for half a minute, his face softened somewhat, not into warmth but to uncertainty.
He drew one hand along the railing, slowly back and forth.
"I... if you guys are gonna..." he started, then closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, several times. Then he stopped, opened his eyes again, and looked down at the Mini-Merry a second time wonderingly.
A moment later, he pulled down his hat and backed away from the railing. "I'm not going in that one," he mumbled. "I can't." Raising his voice, he went on to say, "I'll see you over there." Then he stretched both his arms wide until he'd grabbed two trees over on the other side, before slingshotting himself over.
Well. All right then, thought Nami.
The rest of the crew divided themselves into groups to cross back and forth on Mini-Merry. When everyone had come ashore, they dragged the small boat up on land and hid her behind lots of rubble and tree branches. Nami looked at the simplified map she had over the island and pointed out the mountain where the poneglyphs were supposed to be, in case they needed a reminder of the lay of the land from this vantage point.
From there, they'd walk the same way they'd come, last time, to the small bay on the opposite side of the island where they'd made land then.
That's where they would start searching in earnest.
"You were right." Luffy's voice was toneless, his face stiff and immobile. He wasn't looking at anybody.
"Eh? Mr Luffy?" said Brook, spinning around and putting his skull to the side questioningly. The others all paused, listening closely.
"You guys were right. This is just a normal island. Nothing weird here."
"Er... I'm not quite sure that's what we were saying," said Brook diffidently, scratching his afro.
"Let's go find the poneglyphs," Luffy went on tersely, and marched off. The others glanced at each other, then took deep breaths and followed.
They walked through the wreckage of the Marine camp, neither hurrying nor with particular caution, past the heaps of torn-up canvas and poles showing where there'd been tents before, the burned-down remains of officer cabins, the trenches and cooking holes, the pitiful remnants of fences… They noted, but took care not to look too closely at the big pile to the right of ashes and bones, where someone had strewn flowers weeks ago, long withered since.
It must have been there they had burned the bodies of their fallen comrades, those former Marines who were now travelling the perilous sea with the Strawhats' log pose. And perhaps they had cremated the officers they'd rebelled against as well, for the small group didn't encounter any stray corpses in Marine uniforms anywhere as they traversed the camp grounds.
The pirates walked on without stopping to search for anything of value in the piles of destruction, though some of them filed away the thought that they might have to do so later, if they could stomach it. But not now.
They found the path that the ex-Marines had told Nami about, a well-trodden one that lead into the densely grown forests of the island, out of sight from the ocean. It would take them towards the mountain where the poneglyphs were, in the island's centre.
Luffy looked back, still with little expression, his face pale and gaunt, then he turned around and started walking. And the Strawhat pirates followed him into the jungle, all seven of them.
*
Luffy only registers the woods around him vaguely, as shadowy things of little consequence. For every other step he sees somewhere else -
He's in the forest of his childhood, on the Corbo mountain - first running alone, trying and failing to keep up with Ace; then running and fighting and hunting with Ace and Sabo, doing everything together; then, for years, running or walking with Ace, or alone, until he couldn't get lost in the depth of those woods if he wanted to.
And then he's in in some other forest, running in a great hurry among the many trees, trying to find the right place before the bad guys will land - what bad guys? He's not sure, but they seem to have something to do with the man from his dream the other night, the bastard with shiny black hair and glasses. Time is running out, and no matter how much he wants to think this forest is the same as the first, he knows it can't be. Otherwise he wouldn't get lost. But it should be the same, it should be, I want it to be a part of him insists - but he can feel Going Merry looking at him and he can't turn it away any longer: it's not the same forest, not the same island. He knows Merry can't have come from his home island. And now he has the feeling there are a bunch of kids watching him from behind the trees, always hiding when he turns his gaze to them.
He clenches his teeth and breathes in heavily, registering the smells around him. Those smells make him sick, he hates this place - but being sick that way is better, still better than these images in his head, the hole in his chest that just keeps hurting -
Trembling, he digs his nails into his fists and keeps walking.
*
Chopper walks with the others, trotting in Walk Point right behind Nami and Luffy, trying to pay vigorous attention to his surroundings with eyes, ears and nose. But he finds himself looking down on the ground a lot.
He wonders when the storm of emotions and memories will hit him for real. So far, inside him there's just the same mix of emotions he's felt on the ship since last night: nervous anticipation, fear, hope and determination, with the dull dark hole of he's gone underneath it all. Maybe the hot air and the sharp smells of the plants and the soil all around him have increased his nervousness a bit, but that's the only difference.
But... Something is different about the island, though. It takes several minutes of walking before he realises it.
It's still warm and stuffy, but not to the same extent it had been; and the smells, though still strong, aren't as overpowering as he remembers. He breathes in carefully. Yes, there is a certain tinge of fresh coolness in the air, compared to how it was before. He supposes it's due to the weather shifting to autumn, even if it seems a little early for that on a hot Summer Island. But that's the Grand Line for you. Nami would probably know - but Chopper isn't going to bother her for a small question like that.
Whatever the cause is, he feels grateful for the change. Every little bit helps, and if the air had still been as hot and oppressive as last time, it would have made it that much harder to walk this path.
...We can't just let him lie there. Nami's words from the crew council echo in his mind, but so does Robin's bleak statement, There may be nothing left to bury. He shivers, clenching his teeth. He's here because he thinks Nami's right, because they have to at least try to find the remains, because it's what he would have wanted to do - but still...
I don't want us to find anything. I don't want to know for sure.
Except... except he does, too. He knows damn well they couldn't have kept sailing the way they were. And not only because of Luffy's mind-wall. They needed to return here: they can't go on not knowing, not having even tried to learn the truth.
He can smell spices in the air, and more promisingly, herbs he can recognise as medicine ingredients. But that smell also feels heavy, now, reminding him of their first trek on the island. Back then, Chopper had been happy and excited, stopping to gather some of them up, and looking forward to pick more on the walk back. Instead they'd been ambushed.
This time, he realises glumly, unless they'll need to get away from here in a hurry again, he should try to gather as many herbs as he can, later. It would be very irresponsible not to. They could serve to make medicine his crewmates might need.
Tears well up again without warning, obscuring the path. He transforms into Brain Point to wipe them off, not looking at anyone, trying to keep his sniffling down. Well, the herb picking ought to be done. And he will do it. But he doesn't think he can do it gladly.
He can picture Nami, Sanji and Robin saying to him, He'd want you to gather them, you're the doctor. And he'd want you to be happy about it. And they'd be right, Chopper knows. But the warmth of their smiles wouldn't reach the tired sadness of their eyes, as they'd say it. And it's not enough, thinking of it that way. It just isn't. It doesn't help.
*
Despite the heat, despite the heavy smells of spices in the damp air, despite the buzzing insects and the occasional large animal lumbering across their path, or the birds that zoom past above them, Sanji feels like this isn't quite real. The feeling has grown stronger since they made land here, but it's been there the whole day, ever since he awoke at dawn after a troubled sleep of confusing, fumbling dreams.
Are they really walking here now, the whole (but not whole) crew? Is the wild overgrown forest truly all around them; or is it just a delusion?
Or, he thinks twenty paces later, maybe this is what's real, them walking here like this, and it's the weeks they've been sailing since they left this place that's a lie. They haven't really been sailing all that time with just eight people; they didn't actually commit a kind of low-key mutiny; and they don't really have a captain who forgets so much and thinks he's two people now - right?
*
There is, perhaps, a certain relief in getting here, finally. And to be away from the ship with its burden of memories. But that relief is still like a tiny puddle of water in the midst of a thousand acres of dry, arid moorland. It does very little.
Still, Zoro thinks, this isn't so hard. All he has to do is put one foot in front of the other, walking steadily on the rough forest path. To pay close attention to your crewmates and the environment, the uneven ground and the overcast sky, the dense woods and marshes all around them - to watch closely, and to listen even closer, listen with more than just your ears. Be ready for anything.
The trick is to pay attention enough to always stay in the now - in this walk, on this day. To only see the trees and the leaves and the sky all around them - not the ones he saw back then. To only hear the trampling of eight people on a forest path, the whoosh of a sudden wind; the far-off call of a bird; the croak of a toad in the ditch as he walks past, splashing it; the steps of his crewmates and his captain's breathing, growing more ragged almost with every step. And to not hear the cries and clangs and explosions of a great battle all around him.
The noises he's trying to push away isn't from just the one battle here, either. The sounds in his head are from all the other battles they'd been through as well, from a small backwater island in East Blue all the way here to the New World. So many times they'd nearly all been lost...
Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad, if he let those echoes wash over him. It takes energy to hold them back, and he's so damned tired...
No. He can't allow himself that. He can't afford the great weight pushing him down now, the luxury of pain. People are depending on him. Luffy's not just oblivious anymore; he's getting ever closer to a breakdown. Nami can't carry it all by herself. Zoro has to be steady and hold on.
Besides, he thinks, a sudden sharp, dark twist like a sword into his stomach, it's not like he deserves to be the one to let go and collapse. He failed. He'd been busy with his own battle back then, not seeing where he should be, not realising what was going on. He should have been able to stop it from happening. Should have. What the hell was it worth becoming the greatest swordsman in the world, if you can't even protect your friends when they need it?
He swallows, realises it's not just Luffy's breathing he can hear this time, but his own as well.
Never mind. Stop thinking. Just go. They'll get there eventually. They will.
*
For Luffy, the ground doesn't seem as solid anymore, it's like there are spots in it that aren't earth or stone but cloud, cloud that's mostly strong enough to walk on but could turn loose any second, something you drown in like water – or else, just letting him fall, many many thousands of meters down, and he can see the gaps below him, the abyss of air and sky and a sea that will smash him, if he falls in.
Then Merry is there again in his head, flying, flying in a storm, the sail filling out, Nami calling out, everyone happy -
But there are gaps in the path beneath his feet and he can't get to that other place anymore -
– It's not like this is hell–
A sharp flash of pain. And he stumbles, grabbing at a big thorn bush to support himself , the thorns pricking him with a sting he hardly feels.
Someone stops by his side. It's Chopper in Heavy Point, he sees, though his view is fuzzy at first.
"Luffy?" Chopper sounds worried, reaching out with a steadying arm. "Are you all right?"
The support is needed for a second or two, but once he's regained his balance, he pushes Chopper away, though not roughly.
"Don't call me that," he mumbles, then realises that wasn't something he should have said out loud. He quickly grins widely and takes a tentative step forward, then another. "S-sorry, Chopper! Never mind, I'm all right!" he asserts. "Everything's fine!" Smiling feels like slogging through hard mud. But he manages to get going again, straightening up and walking again on the forest path in this place he hates. Chopper is mumbling something. Luffy tries hard not to listen.
*
Damn it. There's just nothing dangerous happening.
Franky knows he shouldn't be surprised. Hadn't he said as much to Chopper the other day on the ship – that it wouldn't be physical danger that was the real threat, here? The faces of his crewmates all mirror his apprehensions, too, as everyone is careful to give Luffy his space, to match their pace to his increasingly slow and faltering step, to only occasionally glance over at his pale, sweaty face from the corner of their eyes – Luffy wasn't in the lead any more – but mostly keeping their eyes at the uneven ground they're walking on.
The only great beasts they've seen so far are a snappish giant turtle and a large mamba, the latter swimming in a slow, placid stream crossing the path. Nothing else. No human enemies, no convenient interruptions...
It's excruciating. Not the least because nobody's saying anything, the silence enveloping them in a tense, itchy way that weighs him down. That lets his thoughts be too loud instead, his memories far too pushy and vivid.
After a while it's almost as if he's alone on the path, lost in this green world, his gaze blank and unfocused. His body's walking here, but his mind is far away, back in the islands they've sailed through, back in the fights they've had, back in the streets and canals at home... A part of him realises he's hiding, but it's hard not to, here. His own breath starts to become heavier, just like Strawhat's, and his hands curl into tight fists on their own.
I don't wanna be here. And yet his stomach curls even more at the thought of returning to the ship the same way they came, of continuing to sail with that emptiness, that broken, crippled feeling wearing them down. It must have been hard for Sunny, too, he thinks suddenly. No wonder it felt like Sunny was pushing him to go ashore, earlier.
The path is crossed by another creek. This one is wider and faster than the earlier one, but there are rocks in the middle they can jump on. Many of the trees nearby have been smashed up, even torn apart. There are bullets and torn-off pieces of cloth and metal armour on the ground, but no bodies. Sanji walks down to the edge of the creek and starts filling up some canteens with water.
"Just in case," he mutters. "Though I guess we should boil it first... Hm." He puts his head to the side and eyes the water below him with a thoughtful frown, takes a deep breath, and takes a sip from it.
"Huh. It seems pretty fresh, actually," he judges. "A lot better than any of the water around here did, last time."
Franky shrugs as he crouches down beside Eyebrow-bro and helps him fill the canteen, pausing to drink from it himself. The taste isn't bad, just a little muddy. "Well, it's a mountain stream, right? They're usually cool. Still," he concedes, "air does seem fresher too, now that you say it." He scratches his stomach pensively. "Less stuffy and all."
Sanji nods, with that one distant look back on his face - the one they all seem to get, every now and then. Then he and Franky get back up and cross the creek rock by rock, the others waiting for them further ahead.
A flock of huge tropical birds suddenly rises from a clump of small trees next to the path. The birds pass over them, crying out something that almost but not quite sounds like words. The circle the group three times before flying away, their eerie cries lingering for some time. Franky has a feeling like he might be drowning.
He shakes his head wildly and brings himself out of it for the moment. But somehow, that only hurts all the more.
The ground has started to slope upwards now, the path getting windier. It seems like they've reached the mountains in the centre.
*
As Robin is walking, she can't help but notice hundreds of little things on and around their trail; all the scratches and tracks, bits of clothes and wood, the many small and large signs of not one great battle but two, the latter right after the first. Even if she didn't know this already, she would have been able to conclude as much.
Using extra eyes for caution, she also sees a couple of unburied bodies in the bushes she doesn't tell the crew about, after she's confirmed they're all Marines. She notes animal tracks and bones, snake skins and anthills; old notches high up in trees signalling that people have been here years earlier. She even sees sunken stones and a bit of old timber that looks like ancient house foundations, something she'd normally find quite tantalising.
Not now, however. Robin notices all these things, because she can't turn that part of her brain off. But she wishes she could. She wishes she could walk in blissful ignorance, unmarred by this knowledge that won't shut up; unsurrounded by clues of the past, of the whispering stories. She wishes this forest was nameless, nowhere; that she was no-one, walking here.
She had a dream this night a little like that - everything fuzzy and half-unformed, with no clear outlines. But there, something seemed to want to push her out of it, something that wasn't part of herself. It felt anxious and unsettling. Like being seen when you didn't want to be.
Robin walks on, glancing at her crewmates occasionally, wishing she and they could all be nameless.
*
There still seems to be gaping holes in the path, but Luffy manages to walk on, willing his best to pretend they're not there, that he won't fall in, and so far he hasn't. He crosses the creek with little trouble and starts to walk up the slope.
There's a part of him that's mad at himself, because he's not alert as he should be and this is a bad place and he needs to be ready to fight for his crew, even if they've all gone crazy... But that part is too overshadowed now, it keeps retreating further and further back. Even the path and the woods around him in this dark place are retreating, fading, fading –
Right hand deep in his pocket, he's clutching the small, hard round thing he found in the crow's next so hard it digs into his skin. He bites his dry lips, swallowing. Now he knows what kind of dial it is.
Suddenly he pictures a dial like this right in front of his face, too late to stop the punch – an Impact Dial, like the fat priest used on Sky Island. But he's not in the clouds now, he's somewhere on the ground where it's dark outside and a heavy wind is blowing from sea and the air smells bad of sulphur, gas and gunpowder. His fist feels heavier and more unwilling to fight than he can ever remember. And now – now his own punch comes back to him, throwing him back. But wasn't he the one who caught and released it? Why else would he have felt that this dial belonged to him, back in the crow's nest?
It doesn't fit, doesn't fit, doesn't fit –
*
Got to go on. Nami holds the ClimaTact hard but barely notices it, her hand sweaty on its familiar wooden surface. Her hair is unkempt and, like her face and shoulders, stained with berry juice from these surrounding bushes leaning over into the path, but she doesn't feel like she has time to tidy it.
In her head is the memorised map of the island she's drawn from the ex-Marines' information, which she's now trying to match to reality as well as she can. The path is narrower here, and hasn't started to go steadily uphill yet. Got to go on. Got to keep everyone moving. Can't stop.
A part of her is prodding at her, but weakly, in a small voice, Weren't you supposed to stop doing that, once you got here? We've arrived. Weren't you supposed to let go?
The thought makes her mind pause, just a bit, as she stops on the road to dig out a pebble in her shoe. To let go, huh? To stop trying to take charge, now that they've reached the island, stop risking alienating Luffy further; to step back and relax. To –
She presses her lips together, suddenly dizzy in the mottled sunlight. No! No, better stay like this, even with sweat running down her hunched shoulders, with a churning knot in her stomach, with the guilt of mutiny increasing. It isn't time yet. She doesn't dare let go.
She casts an uneasy glance at Luffy, who's picked up his pace again but keeps his head at an angle where she can't see most of his face.
What a hypocrite I am.
*
This tropical island with its bright colours, warm sunlight, fascinating (if sometimes startling) wildlife, where he walks together with his seven living, breathing crewmates is very far in all details from that old drifting ghost ship in the deep, damp fogs of the Florian Triangle. Yet inside Brook's empty skull he hears and feels those old desolate winds again, making him shiver with their moaning.
But back then, he would so often try to fill the ghostly silent with desperate song and music, learning to play all the instruments on the ship that he didn't already.
Now, he's not alone, blessedly, and he shies away from breaking this silence that feels so tense and unreal. He makes an effort to keep his unsure humming in his head only. But keeping quiet like that makes him jittery and unbalanced, stepping wrong on the forest path and getting tangled into roots ever so often. Brook is so very used to humming when he doesn't know what to say.
In his mind he tries to go back to the attempted melody of a few nights ago, the lullaby-like one that he has yet to capture fully. Last night he thought he had it, hearing a lovely song reach him in his dream, though he never found out who sang it. But it faded away when he woke up.
He keeps seeing his old crew around him, remembering when they'd explored deserted jungle islands like this one. But he knows it's just his mind playing tricks with him. They are all at peace now.
"A song of silence," he mumbles to himself, not noticing he says it out loud. He pictures a violin and bow made of air, of nothingness. "That's what I should make..." The not-ghosts of his old crew seem to smile at him.
On to Part Two
This is now a divergence AU and has been so since February last year when manga chapter 574 came out. Here, events at Marineford happened differently (for details, see chapter 7, part 1 with spoilers for the real events), which in turn makes this Luffy a somewhat different person than he is in canon now – maybe not quite as mature under the surface (though events at Sabaody were still the same).
Concrit is, as always, very welcome.
Very big thanks go to
tonko, who's gone way over and above normal beta duties for this one - besides all her usual tireless edits, she was firm and clear when pointing out where I'd gotten quite a bit off-track for one scene. Then she patiently helped me through my subsequent block and confusion with excellent suggestions that I was happy to pick up and use when rewriting the scene. ♥♥♥ Title: Absence, chapter 9, part 1/2
Previous chapters: Chapter One here, fic tag here; the whole fic on AO3 here
Rating: PG for language and dark themes; part 2 PG-13 for even coarser language
Warning For major angst and sadness
Summary: The crew copes with loss. Luffy doesn’t take it well (for more, see the ‘What has gone before’ section right behind the cut).
Characters: Strawhats
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE: In a battle where seakings fought alongside Marines against the ambushed Strawhats, Nami witnessed Usopp being killed or lethally wounded by an extremely large and fierce seaking, subsequently slain by Luffy. The Strawhats, in shock and outnumbered, retreated from the island where it happened before they had a chance to find the body.
Ever since waking up after the battle, Luffy seems to have completely forgotten Usopp ever existed, not even reacting to his name when spoken. (He also forgot Going Merry in a similar way.) However, as time goes on he has taken on some of Usopp’s traits as his own, and has also become extremely protective of the rest of the crew, to the point where he insists on taking on all the fighting himself. The grieving crew wants Luffy sane again, and decided in council to turn back to the island where the death occurred, hoping both to give Usopp a real funeral and that the return will trigger Luffy’s memories. They kept this decision secret from Luffy for days.
In chapter 6, the crew came upon a tiny remnant of the very Marine force they last faced – now deserters severely down on their luck. After some extremely tense moments, Nami decided to trade with them, among other things giving them the crew’s log pose and instead receiving an Eternal Pose set for the island they’re heading for. When Luffy woke up and confronted Nami about this, she came clear about their current destination. He didn't like this, but Nami and the crew persisted. Luffy reacted by withdrawing from the others, hardly speaking to them for the rest of the journey. There's been signs of cracks in his mental shield since then, as he's come to half-remember Going Merry.
Nami finds out that the island – sometimes called "Turnweed Isle" – used to be famous for a tribe of merfolk living outside it who were known to be great healers, but they might not be around anymore. Zoro, speaking to Brook, voices his apprehensions about the crew's future: they will need a good sniper to survive, he knows. Brook tells Zoro of the argument he overheard between Luffy and Usopp on the island.
They reach the island late one evening and stay on board for the night, ready to disembark the next morning on the opposite of the island from last time.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of One Piece were created by Eiichiro Oda - surely one of the most brilliant makers of boys' adventure comics in existence - and are owned by him and Shueisha Inc. They are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fanfic will not be used for profit and may not be reproduced anywhere without the author's approval.
Luffy looked down at the crew from the crow's nest, shivering despite the hot weather. He saw them wandering around, looking over their packs, picking things up and locking the doors of the ship; talking in low tones and in small gestures. Franky was already standing over by the helm where he could activate the Docking System. They were going to cross over in that small ship, going back and forth several times until they'd all made land. Sometimes one of them would look up towards him, then turn away again.
They probably weren't sure if he was going to come with them or not.
He knew they thought he didn't understand. That it was no use trying to explain to him.
But Luffy did understand. He understood very well that there was a great, gaping abyss inside him, something he'd tried hard for days, weeks, ages not to fall into, scrambling and running. He knew that the darkness had come from this island, and that if he got ashore, he probably wouldn't be able to escape it.
And he also understood that his crewmates were trying to push him into that very abyss. He didn't understand why they would want to do that; but maybe the why didn't even matter much, in the end. Not when they wouldn't listen to him.
A captain that nobody listened to wasn't really a captain at all. Maybe he wasn't even anyone.
He didn't have to go ashore with the others, though. They couldn't make him, could they? He could stay on board and protect the ship. It wasn't right to leave Sunny unguarded...
There was a deep hole right there, when he thought we need to protect the ship; with an acid taste in his mouth, he shook his head violently, trying to force his mind back.
He hugged his shaking knees and bit his knuckles until the darkness pulled back, but not all the way back - it was still closer than before. His stomach was burning - maybe he would have to throw up soon.
They were all going to the island and he couldn't stop them. Even if he could have knocked all of them out at once (and he probably wouldn't be able to), that wouldn't make them change their minds once they woke up. And maybe they would all fall into that same dark abyss and then he'd be all alone, like on Sabaody; and nothing would matter anymore.
Shifting position and stretching out his legs, his toe pushed against a hard, flat object lying in a cobwebbed corner. Luffy took up whatever it was and tilted his head as he looked at it. He blinked, then squatted down on the floor to see if there were any more things of the same kind around, but couldn't find any.
It's mine. I should have this.
He got up again without bothering to dust himself off and shoved the object deep into his pocket. Then he opened the hatch and started to climb down.
*
The sudden movement made Nami look up, then flinch as Luffy landed on the deck not far from where she was standing.
She had just finished adjusting her pack and was waiting with the others on the lawn deck for Franky to bring out the Mini-Merry. They'd take turns crossing over in it.
Everyone carried one backpack, with standard provisions for exploring an island. Quite possibly they wouldn't have much of an appetite over there; but they had no idea how long it would all take and Sanji had felt it was best to be careful. For the same reason, Brook and Franky were carrying blankets as well, just in case they couldn't get back to the ship before dark. In addition, there was a white sheet rolled up tightly in Zoro's pack, Nami knew; and both Sanji and Franky carried a spade strapped to their packs.
Though she wasn't sure if Franky was coming. He had been the most outwardly restless of them during these morning hours, walking up and down, back and forth all over the ship, now and then setting up what he claimed were traps to attack any intruder; now and then disabling them again, muttering about flaws. He would put down his pack and even start to unpack it, then abruptly shoulder it again before disappearing into the depths of the ship, checking up and tinkering and who-knew-what... he'd also seemed a lot clumsier than normal, tripping and bumping into things. Nerves, maybe? Nami wanted him to go with the rest of them, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Sunny alone either. So she had no solution to offer. The more important thing was getting Luffy to come along with them. But would he?
Her fingers were trembling again, and yet she didn't feel as nervous as she'd thought she'd be. Not really numb, either. Just - a little off, a little floating on the surface of things, half in the daze of the dream she'd had woken up from this morning, though she could barely remember it now. Only a persistent sense of there being someone very, very close by who kept reaching for her; who kept calling her, but so quietly it could hardly be heard at all.
And she had a feeling she'd tried to reach back, in the dream, groping and fumbling in a fuzzy white light. She'd stood in a narrow white hallway somewhere she didn't recognise. Had there been secret passages behind the walls, mystery panels she hadn't known how to open?
She ought to have known: she was the mapmaker. She was accountable. The hand she couldn't reach, the voice she could neither hear clearly nor manage to answer - they had both been entirely, utterly close. Too close.
But anyway. She shook her head trying to clear it, still watching Luffy warily. At that moment, Franky turned the lever, cogs and wheels rumbled within the ship's Docking System and the big hatch opened below, Mini-Merry sliding out onto the waves.
"Don't go there," said Luffy tensely, immediately stopping all movement in the crew. He was standing ramrod straight and looking at all of them intensely. "Stay here. Don't GO there, guys!" he repeated, trembling now.
Nami exchanged looks with the others, opened her mouth to speak, but Sanji was faster.
"We have to, Luffy," he said, not unkindly, bending down to take up his pack, then walked over to the railing. "It's time."
"Right," said Nami, and the others assented, or at least nodded.
Luffy turned around, his back to them. He crossed his arms. "Are you going to leave Sunny alone?" he demanded, his voice sounding both harsh and brittle.
"Ah... Well... That's..." Nami started, then fell silent, not knowing what to say. Yes, it did make sense for one or two of them to stay behind and guard the ship... but it didn't feel right. They should all come ashore, she felt very clearly.
"I could stay..." Robin offered now.
Franky waved this aside with a wide gesture, then swooped his hand towards the Mini-Merry. "Nah. If anyone should stay, it should be me. Not you, babe." He sat down on the top of the staircase leading from the helm towards lawn deck, scratching his chest and looking at his captain.
"I already thought about it, Strawhat," he continued. "This way and that, all through the morning. And you know what? Each time I'd decided I'd stay, I'd freaking trip over something, or bump into things, or bust up stuff... I swear, half the time it felt like the ship was tripping me up on purpose!" He sighed, stretched his long mecha arms and then patted the wood next to him. "I don't think Sunny wants me to stay," he said simply. "Think she wants me to go over to the island with the rest of us. But if you say the word, I'll stay."
Luffy looked up at Franky, his face unreadable.
Chopper cleared his throat, then said cautiously, "Luffy... what do you want to do? Do you want Franky to stay here? Or... d-do you want to stay here and guard the ship? Instead of coming with us?" He leaned his head to the side, watching Luffy carefully and taking a small step towards the railing.
Luffy gave him a wild, hard, oddly stiff look, but first said nothing as he walked over to the railing to look at Mini-Merry. Standing there for half a minute, his face softened somewhat, not into warmth but to uncertainty.
He drew one hand along the railing, slowly back and forth.
"I... if you guys are gonna..." he started, then closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, several times. Then he stopped, opened his eyes again, and looked down at the Mini-Merry a second time wonderingly.
A moment later, he pulled down his hat and backed away from the railing. "I'm not going in that one," he mumbled. "I can't." Raising his voice, he went on to say, "I'll see you over there." Then he stretched both his arms wide until he'd grabbed two trees over on the other side, before slingshotting himself over.
Well. All right then, thought Nami.
The rest of the crew divided themselves into groups to cross back and forth on Mini-Merry. When everyone had come ashore, they dragged the small boat up on land and hid her behind lots of rubble and tree branches. Nami looked at the simplified map she had over the island and pointed out the mountain where the poneglyphs were supposed to be, in case they needed a reminder of the lay of the land from this vantage point.
From there, they'd walk the same way they'd come, last time, to the small bay on the opposite side of the island where they'd made land then.
That's where they would start searching in earnest.
"You were right." Luffy's voice was toneless, his face stiff and immobile. He wasn't looking at anybody.
"Eh? Mr Luffy?" said Brook, spinning around and putting his skull to the side questioningly. The others all paused, listening closely.
"You guys were right. This is just a normal island. Nothing weird here."
"Er... I'm not quite sure that's what we were saying," said Brook diffidently, scratching his afro.
"Let's go find the poneglyphs," Luffy went on tersely, and marched off. The others glanced at each other, then took deep breaths and followed.
They walked through the wreckage of the Marine camp, neither hurrying nor with particular caution, past the heaps of torn-up canvas and poles showing where there'd been tents before, the burned-down remains of officer cabins, the trenches and cooking holes, the pitiful remnants of fences… They noted, but took care not to look too closely at the big pile to the right of ashes and bones, where someone had strewn flowers weeks ago, long withered since.
It must have been there they had burned the bodies of their fallen comrades, those former Marines who were now travelling the perilous sea with the Strawhats' log pose. And perhaps they had cremated the officers they'd rebelled against as well, for the small group didn't encounter any stray corpses in Marine uniforms anywhere as they traversed the camp grounds.
The pirates walked on without stopping to search for anything of value in the piles of destruction, though some of them filed away the thought that they might have to do so later, if they could stomach it. But not now.
They found the path that the ex-Marines had told Nami about, a well-trodden one that lead into the densely grown forests of the island, out of sight from the ocean. It would take them towards the mountain where the poneglyphs were, in the island's centre.
Luffy looked back, still with little expression, his face pale and gaunt, then he turned around and started walking. And the Strawhat pirates followed him into the jungle, all seven of them.
*
Luffy only registers the woods around him vaguely, as shadowy things of little consequence. For every other step he sees somewhere else -
He's in the forest of his childhood, on the Corbo mountain - first running alone, trying and failing to keep up with Ace; then running and fighting and hunting with Ace and Sabo, doing everything together; then, for years, running or walking with Ace, or alone, until he couldn't get lost in the depth of those woods if he wanted to.
And then he's in in some other forest, running in a great hurry among the many trees, trying to find the right place before the bad guys will land - what bad guys? He's not sure, but they seem to have something to do with the man from his dream the other night, the bastard with shiny black hair and glasses. Time is running out, and no matter how much he wants to think this forest is the same as the first, he knows it can't be. Otherwise he wouldn't get lost. But it should be the same, it should be, I want it to be a part of him insists - but he can feel Going Merry looking at him and he can't turn it away any longer: it's not the same forest, not the same island. He knows Merry can't have come from his home island. And now he has the feeling there are a bunch of kids watching him from behind the trees, always hiding when he turns his gaze to them.
He clenches his teeth and breathes in heavily, registering the smells around him. Those smells make him sick, he hates this place - but being sick that way is better, still better than these images in his head, the hole in his chest that just keeps hurting -
Trembling, he digs his nails into his fists and keeps walking.
*
Chopper walks with the others, trotting in Walk Point right behind Nami and Luffy, trying to pay vigorous attention to his surroundings with eyes, ears and nose. But he finds himself looking down on the ground a lot.
He wonders when the storm of emotions and memories will hit him for real. So far, inside him there's just the same mix of emotions he's felt on the ship since last night: nervous anticipation, fear, hope and determination, with the dull dark hole of he's gone underneath it all. Maybe the hot air and the sharp smells of the plants and the soil all around him have increased his nervousness a bit, but that's the only difference.
But... Something is different about the island, though. It takes several minutes of walking before he realises it.
It's still warm and stuffy, but not to the same extent it had been; and the smells, though still strong, aren't as overpowering as he remembers. He breathes in carefully. Yes, there is a certain tinge of fresh coolness in the air, compared to how it was before. He supposes it's due to the weather shifting to autumn, even if it seems a little early for that on a hot Summer Island. But that's the Grand Line for you. Nami would probably know - but Chopper isn't going to bother her for a small question like that.
Whatever the cause is, he feels grateful for the change. Every little bit helps, and if the air had still been as hot and oppressive as last time, it would have made it that much harder to walk this path.
...We can't just let him lie there. Nami's words from the crew council echo in his mind, but so does Robin's bleak statement, There may be nothing left to bury. He shivers, clenching his teeth. He's here because he thinks Nami's right, because they have to at least try to find the remains, because it's what he would have wanted to do - but still...
I don't want us to find anything. I don't want to know for sure.
Except... except he does, too. He knows damn well they couldn't have kept sailing the way they were. And not only because of Luffy's mind-wall. They needed to return here: they can't go on not knowing, not having even tried to learn the truth.
He can smell spices in the air, and more promisingly, herbs he can recognise as medicine ingredients. But that smell also feels heavy, now, reminding him of their first trek on the island. Back then, Chopper had been happy and excited, stopping to gather some of them up, and looking forward to pick more on the walk back. Instead they'd been ambushed.
This time, he realises glumly, unless they'll need to get away from here in a hurry again, he should try to gather as many herbs as he can, later. It would be very irresponsible not to. They could serve to make medicine his crewmates might need.
Tears well up again without warning, obscuring the path. He transforms into Brain Point to wipe them off, not looking at anyone, trying to keep his sniffling down. Well, the herb picking ought to be done. And he will do it. But he doesn't think he can do it gladly.
He can picture Nami, Sanji and Robin saying to him, He'd want you to gather them, you're the doctor. And he'd want you to be happy about it. And they'd be right, Chopper knows. But the warmth of their smiles wouldn't reach the tired sadness of their eyes, as they'd say it. And it's not enough, thinking of it that way. It just isn't. It doesn't help.
*
Despite the heat, despite the heavy smells of spices in the damp air, despite the buzzing insects and the occasional large animal lumbering across their path, or the birds that zoom past above them, Sanji feels like this isn't quite real. The feeling has grown stronger since they made land here, but it's been there the whole day, ever since he awoke at dawn after a troubled sleep of confusing, fumbling dreams.
Are they really walking here now, the whole (but not whole) crew? Is the wild overgrown forest truly all around them; or is it just a delusion?
Or, he thinks twenty paces later, maybe this is what's real, them walking here like this, and it's the weeks they've been sailing since they left this place that's a lie. They haven't really been sailing all that time with just eight people; they didn't actually commit a kind of low-key mutiny; and they don't really have a captain who forgets so much and thinks he's two people now - right?
*
There is, perhaps, a certain relief in getting here, finally. And to be away from the ship with its burden of memories. But that relief is still like a tiny puddle of water in the midst of a thousand acres of dry, arid moorland. It does very little.
Still, Zoro thinks, this isn't so hard. All he has to do is put one foot in front of the other, walking steadily on the rough forest path. To pay close attention to your crewmates and the environment, the uneven ground and the overcast sky, the dense woods and marshes all around them - to watch closely, and to listen even closer, listen with more than just your ears. Be ready for anything.
The trick is to pay attention enough to always stay in the now - in this walk, on this day. To only see the trees and the leaves and the sky all around them - not the ones he saw back then. To only hear the trampling of eight people on a forest path, the whoosh of a sudden wind; the far-off call of a bird; the croak of a toad in the ditch as he walks past, splashing it; the steps of his crewmates and his captain's breathing, growing more ragged almost with every step. And to not hear the cries and clangs and explosions of a great battle all around him.
The noises he's trying to push away isn't from just the one battle here, either. The sounds in his head are from all the other battles they'd been through as well, from a small backwater island in East Blue all the way here to the New World. So many times they'd nearly all been lost...
Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad, if he let those echoes wash over him. It takes energy to hold them back, and he's so damned tired...
No. He can't allow himself that. He can't afford the great weight pushing him down now, the luxury of pain. People are depending on him. Luffy's not just oblivious anymore; he's getting ever closer to a breakdown. Nami can't carry it all by herself. Zoro has to be steady and hold on.
Besides, he thinks, a sudden sharp, dark twist like a sword into his stomach, it's not like he deserves to be the one to let go and collapse. He failed. He'd been busy with his own battle back then, not seeing where he should be, not realising what was going on. He should have been able to stop it from happening. Should have. What the hell was it worth becoming the greatest swordsman in the world, if you can't even protect your friends when they need it?
He swallows, realises it's not just Luffy's breathing he can hear this time, but his own as well.
Never mind. Stop thinking. Just go. They'll get there eventually. They will.
*
For Luffy, the ground doesn't seem as solid anymore, it's like there are spots in it that aren't earth or stone but cloud, cloud that's mostly strong enough to walk on but could turn loose any second, something you drown in like water – or else, just letting him fall, many many thousands of meters down, and he can see the gaps below him, the abyss of air and sky and a sea that will smash him, if he falls in.
Then Merry is there again in his head, flying, flying in a storm, the sail filling out, Nami calling out, everyone happy -
But there are gaps in the path beneath his feet and he can't get to that other place anymore -
– It's not like this is hell–
A sharp flash of pain. And he stumbles, grabbing at a big thorn bush to support himself , the thorns pricking him with a sting he hardly feels.
Someone stops by his side. It's Chopper in Heavy Point, he sees, though his view is fuzzy at first.
"Luffy?" Chopper sounds worried, reaching out with a steadying arm. "Are you all right?"
The support is needed for a second or two, but once he's regained his balance, he pushes Chopper away, though not roughly.
"Don't call me that," he mumbles, then realises that wasn't something he should have said out loud. He quickly grins widely and takes a tentative step forward, then another. "S-sorry, Chopper! Never mind, I'm all right!" he asserts. "Everything's fine!" Smiling feels like slogging through hard mud. But he manages to get going again, straightening up and walking again on the forest path in this place he hates. Chopper is mumbling something. Luffy tries hard not to listen.
*
Damn it. There's just nothing dangerous happening.
Franky knows he shouldn't be surprised. Hadn't he said as much to Chopper the other day on the ship – that it wouldn't be physical danger that was the real threat, here? The faces of his crewmates all mirror his apprehensions, too, as everyone is careful to give Luffy his space, to match their pace to his increasingly slow and faltering step, to only occasionally glance over at his pale, sweaty face from the corner of their eyes – Luffy wasn't in the lead any more – but mostly keeping their eyes at the uneven ground they're walking on.
The only great beasts they've seen so far are a snappish giant turtle and a large mamba, the latter swimming in a slow, placid stream crossing the path. Nothing else. No human enemies, no convenient interruptions...
It's excruciating. Not the least because nobody's saying anything, the silence enveloping them in a tense, itchy way that weighs him down. That lets his thoughts be too loud instead, his memories far too pushy and vivid.
After a while it's almost as if he's alone on the path, lost in this green world, his gaze blank and unfocused. His body's walking here, but his mind is far away, back in the islands they've sailed through, back in the fights they've had, back in the streets and canals at home... A part of him realises he's hiding, but it's hard not to, here. His own breath starts to become heavier, just like Strawhat's, and his hands curl into tight fists on their own.
I don't wanna be here. And yet his stomach curls even more at the thought of returning to the ship the same way they came, of continuing to sail with that emptiness, that broken, crippled feeling wearing them down. It must have been hard for Sunny, too, he thinks suddenly. No wonder it felt like Sunny was pushing him to go ashore, earlier.
The path is crossed by another creek. This one is wider and faster than the earlier one, but there are rocks in the middle they can jump on. Many of the trees nearby have been smashed up, even torn apart. There are bullets and torn-off pieces of cloth and metal armour on the ground, but no bodies. Sanji walks down to the edge of the creek and starts filling up some canteens with water.
"Just in case," he mutters. "Though I guess we should boil it first... Hm." He puts his head to the side and eyes the water below him with a thoughtful frown, takes a deep breath, and takes a sip from it.
"Huh. It seems pretty fresh, actually," he judges. "A lot better than any of the water around here did, last time."
Franky shrugs as he crouches down beside Eyebrow-bro and helps him fill the canteen, pausing to drink from it himself. The taste isn't bad, just a little muddy. "Well, it's a mountain stream, right? They're usually cool. Still," he concedes, "air does seem fresher too, now that you say it." He scratches his stomach pensively. "Less stuffy and all."
Sanji nods, with that one distant look back on his face - the one they all seem to get, every now and then. Then he and Franky get back up and cross the creek rock by rock, the others waiting for them further ahead.
A flock of huge tropical birds suddenly rises from a clump of small trees next to the path. The birds pass over them, crying out something that almost but not quite sounds like words. The circle the group three times before flying away, their eerie cries lingering for some time. Franky has a feeling like he might be drowning.
He shakes his head wildly and brings himself out of it for the moment. But somehow, that only hurts all the more.
The ground has started to slope upwards now, the path getting windier. It seems like they've reached the mountains in the centre.
*
As Robin is walking, she can't help but notice hundreds of little things on and around their trail; all the scratches and tracks, bits of clothes and wood, the many small and large signs of not one great battle but two, the latter right after the first. Even if she didn't know this already, she would have been able to conclude as much.
Using extra eyes for caution, she also sees a couple of unburied bodies in the bushes she doesn't tell the crew about, after she's confirmed they're all Marines. She notes animal tracks and bones, snake skins and anthills; old notches high up in trees signalling that people have been here years earlier. She even sees sunken stones and a bit of old timber that looks like ancient house foundations, something she'd normally find quite tantalising.
Not now, however. Robin notices all these things, because she can't turn that part of her brain off. But she wishes she could. She wishes she could walk in blissful ignorance, unmarred by this knowledge that won't shut up; unsurrounded by clues of the past, of the whispering stories. She wishes this forest was nameless, nowhere; that she was no-one, walking here.
She had a dream this night a little like that - everything fuzzy and half-unformed, with no clear outlines. But there, something seemed to want to push her out of it, something that wasn't part of herself. It felt anxious and unsettling. Like being seen when you didn't want to be.
Robin walks on, glancing at her crewmates occasionally, wishing she and they could all be nameless.
*
There still seems to be gaping holes in the path, but Luffy manages to walk on, willing his best to pretend they're not there, that he won't fall in, and so far he hasn't. He crosses the creek with little trouble and starts to walk up the slope.
There's a part of him that's mad at himself, because he's not alert as he should be and this is a bad place and he needs to be ready to fight for his crew, even if they've all gone crazy... But that part is too overshadowed now, it keeps retreating further and further back. Even the path and the woods around him in this dark place are retreating, fading, fading –
Right hand deep in his pocket, he's clutching the small, hard round thing he found in the crow's next so hard it digs into his skin. He bites his dry lips, swallowing. Now he knows what kind of dial it is.
Suddenly he pictures a dial like this right in front of his face, too late to stop the punch – an Impact Dial, like the fat priest used on Sky Island. But he's not in the clouds now, he's somewhere on the ground where it's dark outside and a heavy wind is blowing from sea and the air smells bad of sulphur, gas and gunpowder. His fist feels heavier and more unwilling to fight than he can ever remember. And now – now his own punch comes back to him, throwing him back. But wasn't he the one who caught and released it? Why else would he have felt that this dial belonged to him, back in the crow's nest?
It doesn't fit, doesn't fit, doesn't fit –
*
Got to go on. Nami holds the ClimaTact hard but barely notices it, her hand sweaty on its familiar wooden surface. Her hair is unkempt and, like her face and shoulders, stained with berry juice from these surrounding bushes leaning over into the path, but she doesn't feel like she has time to tidy it.
In her head is the memorised map of the island she's drawn from the ex-Marines' information, which she's now trying to match to reality as well as she can. The path is narrower here, and hasn't started to go steadily uphill yet. Got to go on. Got to keep everyone moving. Can't stop.
A part of her is prodding at her, but weakly, in a small voice, Weren't you supposed to stop doing that, once you got here? We've arrived. Weren't you supposed to let go?
The thought makes her mind pause, just a bit, as she stops on the road to dig out a pebble in her shoe. To let go, huh? To stop trying to take charge, now that they've reached the island, stop risking alienating Luffy further; to step back and relax. To –
She presses her lips together, suddenly dizzy in the mottled sunlight. No! No, better stay like this, even with sweat running down her hunched shoulders, with a churning knot in her stomach, with the guilt of mutiny increasing. It isn't time yet. She doesn't dare let go.
She casts an uneasy glance at Luffy, who's picked up his pace again but keeps his head at an angle where she can't see most of his face.
What a hypocrite I am.
*
This tropical island with its bright colours, warm sunlight, fascinating (if sometimes startling) wildlife, where he walks together with his seven living, breathing crewmates is very far in all details from that old drifting ghost ship in the deep, damp fogs of the Florian Triangle. Yet inside Brook's empty skull he hears and feels those old desolate winds again, making him shiver with their moaning.
But back then, he would so often try to fill the ghostly silent with desperate song and music, learning to play all the instruments on the ship that he didn't already.
Now, he's not alone, blessedly, and he shies away from breaking this silence that feels so tense and unreal. He makes an effort to keep his unsure humming in his head only. But keeping quiet like that makes him jittery and unbalanced, stepping wrong on the forest path and getting tangled into roots ever so often. Brook is so very used to humming when he doesn't know what to say.
In his mind he tries to go back to the attempted melody of a few nights ago, the lullaby-like one that he has yet to capture fully. Last night he thought he had it, hearing a lovely song reach him in his dream, though he never found out who sang it. But it faded away when he woke up.
He keeps seeing his old crew around him, remembering when they'd explored deserted jungle islands like this one. But he knows it's just his mind playing tricks with him. They are all at peace now.
"A song of silence," he mumbles to himself, not noticing he says it out loud. He pictures a violin and bow made of air, of nothingness. "That's what I should make..." The not-ghosts of his old crew seem to smile at him.
On to Part Two