Absence, chapter 4 (prev. "Fine")
May. 10th, 2009 12:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainsometimesNew chapter of "Fine" "Absence". Or newly revised for those who may have seen the first draft on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
op_fanforall ages ago. Again, warning for character death and very strong angst.
Edit as of Feb. 2010: Title change.
Title: Absence, Chapter 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Characters: All the Strawhats
Spoilers/setting: I think of this as taking place some time in the future, after the current arc (Impel Down) and other unknown future events.
Genre: Serious angst; deathfic
Summary/what has gone before: This comes from a prompt onop_fanforall asking for angstfic in which Luffy has to deal with Usopp being dead. He's not dealing with it very well, so far, in fact he's got a selective amnesia, forgetting Usopp ever existed. In the last chapter, the crew, not able to take this anymore, decided to turn the ship around and go back to the island where it happened, without Luffy's knowledge.
Note: As with earlier chapters, this revised version has been extensively betaed bytonko and wendytigges and is much the better for it. Any remaining errors are solely my own fault. Constructive criticism and other feedback is highly encouraged.
Previous parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three. See Chapter One for disclaimer.
The skies had already turned dark when Brook climbed up the foremast with light steps. Waiting on the yardarm for Mr. Sanji to appear on the other side so that they could unfurl the main sail together, he was somewhat surprised to find himself whistling an old, half-forgotten ditty. The weather still held clear, as they had hoped: above them, the constellations of the night sky were shining brilliantly, certainly more than clear enough for a navigator as talented (and beautiful!) as Miss Nami. Moreover, after hours of calm they were finally picking up a fine, brisk wind that blew in just the right direction for their new regressive course, if Brook was any judge (and he rather thought he was!). All in all, the excellent weather conditions seemed an auspicious start for their new endeavour – even if no-one in the crew still appeared to be entirely certain they were truly doing the right thing.
The strong wind did come with the drawback of making conversations awkward, unfortunately. Bit of a pity, Brook felt; especially as the crew finally, after the big meeting, seemed more inclined to talk freely to each other. He’d have liked to at least indulge in some pleasant chit-chat as he worked, but, well, you couldn’t have everything, Brook supposed with a philosophical hum, climbing over to the main mast to help out Mr. Franky there.
After the three of them had finished putting up the sails together, Mr. Sanji and Mr. Franky descended to the deck again, quite obviously eager to look for new things to do there. Brook could for think of nothing he’d be able to help out with, so he opted to stay where he was for the nonce, ready for duty if called upon. He sat down on the roof of the crow’s nest and looked up at the stars, sometimes taking up the violin for a few strokes before putting it down beside him again.
Ghosts, Brook had always felt, were scary. He didn’t care for ghosts at all, gliding around being transparent and intangible, rattling chains and talking with hollow voices, hungry for life and sometimes eager to bring others into their graves, according to certain stories. Ghost stories had never failed to make Brook’s teeth chatter and his blood run cold, even now when he didn’t have any blood at all (yohohoho)! As far as Brook was concerned, ghosts were weird, creepy, restless, alien, invulnerable, terrifying creatures.
But the occasional sensation of a familiar presence, the sound of a dear old voice or two, the feel of a warm, unseen hand on his shoulder, hearing bodiless fingers pick out a dear melody on a cracked old bass… well, that wasn’t ghosts. It was company.
In his more lucid moments, during those long dark years, he had been willing to admit that all those sensations might be simply due to vivid memories and his own lonely imagination. But he had never been quite sure. And whenever he was particularly worried and uncertain about something, he’d be inclined to talk to his old crewmates as if they were still there in the flesh, able to listen and to offer him advice.
They were at rest, he fervently hoped, now that their bones were buried in West Blue soil on Thriller Bark. Except for the part of them still present inside his tone dial, they had surely all left in peace, trusting that Brook would be able to fulfil their promise through sailing with his new crew. And comforting though it would be to imagine their faces again, something held Brook back from doing so. It wouldn’t quite be right, he felt.
But not all his old comrades were buried there. And in this moment, after so many years, the memory of one who was not rose unbidden in his mind until he practically felt the other there beside him, maybe holding a tankard of rum up to the sky and humming softly.
“I wonder if this is right, Captain,” Brook said softly to Captain Yorki. “If we are doing the right thing or not.”
He got a peaceful, indulgent smile from the man who had left the Grand Line over fifty years ago in a very small and fragile ship, suffering from a deadly sickness.
“Even for pirates, that’s not always that easy to know,” Captain Yorki said in reply, or so Brook fancied he would, chuckling softly before drinking from his tankard. “You know that, Brook, you’ve been a captain yourself.”
Brook sighed, shifting his slight weight around. “I don’t think I was ever all that good at it, Mr. Yorki,” he confessed. “Or perhaps times were easier back then. The choices didn’t seem as hard.”
“Or maybe that’s just how you’d like to remember it,” said the Captain, crossing his legs and looking down at the deck. “Damn, but this is a great-looking ship. And those are all good kids you’re sailing with now.”
“Of course, of course,” mumbled Brook, the old pain there again as if it had never left. “But I don’t know… I wonder what you would have done, Captain.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right question,” Captain Yorki said, inside the dark, echoing hollow of Brook’s head. “But if I’d be doing something like what that kid is doing, if I couldn’t really function like I should anymore… I’d like to think you guys would be trying to help me, would do what it takes to bring me back, rather than give up on me. I mean, you and I have met some crews where the captain was little more than a figurehead who spent most of his time drunk and ignored… And sure, they might survive on the seas for a while, but… I’d feel useless, that way. I’d wager this kid wouldn’t want that, either.”
“Ah… No, I don’t think that,” said Brook. He felt somewhat more at ease. “No, he wouldn’t want that at all,” he confirmed.
“And keep playing,” said his old captain’s voice. “You may be a Strawhat Pirate now, but you’re still a Rumba Pirate for all that. And we don’t stop the music for anything.”
“That’s true, Captain,” said Brook softly, and indeed his fingers were already handling the violin and the bow without him consciously deciding it. “That’s true. But I don’t know if I can find the right tunes…”
He said it too late – the presence was gone now, back into memories. Well, then. Brook looked back up at the stars. The wind paused, and in the lull he heard the voices of Mr. Sanji and Miss Nami coming up from below, as the cook kept asking for things to do and Miss Nami seemed to grow more and more exasperated.
“I wonder if I should tell them what I heard or not, back there,” Brook said, talking to himself alone now. The moment had somehow never seemed right, earlier in the council. And he couldn’t decide which one of his crewmates he should bother and possibly upset with the information – which was likely quite useless, anyway. It might well be best just to go on keeping it to himself.
He tucked the violin under his arm and started to gently skip down towards the deck. Quite possibly, a soothing melody or three was just what was needed down there.
*
After they’d turned the ship around and the sails were up to catch the breeze, and they had finished helping Franky set up the illumination, Zoro and Chopper hadn’t hung around for very long. It didn’t seem like Nami needed more help than she already had, what with Sanji and Robin keeping themselves by her side, and Franky and Brook rushing to and fro, full of energy. In fact, they’d hardly even noticed when swordsman and doctor left. But some people needed to be responsible enough to get some rest.
Zoro supposed he couldn’t blame them for being eager to finally do something constructive (hopefully), but he hoped at least some of those bozos would remember to go to sleep before the end of the night. Otherwise he and Chopper would probably be the only ones awake tomorrow morning. Besides Luffy of course.
He walked the steps down to the lawn deck with deliberate softness, trying to mask the way he seemed so heavy and clumsy these days. Part of it came from a sense of constantly feeling weighed down by something like huge, heavy slabs of lead and iron. Constantly pressing down on him, those invisible weights made it hard to breathe at times, as if he were in a tough battle. Lying down at night, that sensation could be particularly strong.
But at the same time, he also had a feeling of being wrapped up in thick, heavy wadding; not comforting but isolating. He’d feel like he needed to force himself to do even simple tasks and say just a few words, as if movements and speech could hardly slip through the stuff. Sometimes he found himself amazed that his crewmates could even hear and respond to him, all bundled up as he felt.
And sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be even deeper cocooned into the heavy warm cloth; unreachable, untouchable. Like Luffy.
Chopper also softened his steps as they came near the door to the boys’ cabin, finally going to tip-toes. He breathed in deeply, then pushed the door open with exaggerated slowness. Zoro didn’t blame him, though he doubted it made any difference one way or the other. He’d lost track of how long it had been since Luffy had fallen asleep, unwittingly aided by heavy food and special lullabies. He might well sleep until morning, though he might also wake up before that easily enough.
They both stopped by his bunk, looking at their captain where he lay in his pyjamas like usual; listening to his steady, slow, regular breathing, punctuated now and then by rather gentle snoring. At one point one of his toes twitched, then stopped.
Normally it wouldn’t occur to Zoro to wonder about other people’s dreams. Every man had a right to his own privacy, and dreams were as private as you could think of. But these days… Zoro couldn’t help but wonder if Luffy’s denial held fast while he was dreaming. Or did bits and pieces of the truth reach him then, only for the curtain to fall down again every time he woke up? Either way, the sheer strength of that mental control was pretty damn impressive, for all that it was turned the wrong way around.
Robin’s words during the council came back to him. Maybe they really were doing this more for their sake than for Luffy’s… But he shook his head and slouched away to wash up and brush his teeth, Chopper following on his heels. They’d made their choice. And even though right now they didn’t know what they’d do once those walls finally came tumbling down – and they would, they had to, one way or the other – well, that was just a bridge they’d have to build and cross once they got there.
He and Chopper changed into what passed for sleeping gear in the boys’ cabin (mostly older, more threadbare and dingier versions of what they wore during the day). Though still moving quietly and cautiously, Chopper was the faster of them, and had already been lying in his bunk for several minutes by the time Zoro pulled his old green t-shirt over his head. Chopper’s eyes were large and anxious as he stared up into the ceiling, obviously trying like hell to keep his composure.
“Well, g’night then,” mumbled Zoro as he turned out the lights and crept into his own bed.
“G’night…” answered Chopper in a small voice. They were both quiet for a few minutes. But sleep seemed more distant now than it had up on deck, the heavy weights pushing themselves down all the more on Zoro. For his part, Chopper was still breathing too quickly, too audibly, all hyped-up and nervous. He kept tossing and turning.
“I wish we could know... I wish we could just know a bit more of what will happen tomorrow,” whispered Chopper finally. “Just so we can be prepared for it! So we can plan.” His voice rose into a tone of anxious complaint.
“Whatever happens, happens,” said Zoro gruffly. “No use in thinking about it before the fact.”
“I – I know,” mumbled the reindeer, sighing deeply. “I know! But I just… well.” There was a quiet sniffle. “Never mind.” He moved in his bed again, making the hammock swing. Luffy’s soft snoring seemed to grow a bit stronger.
“I think you were right, Chopper,” Zoro made himself say into the darkness, despite the heavy, hard pressure on his chest. “At the council. What we’re doing now… it’s what Usopp would have wanted us to do. If it were someone else.”
Chopper lay still, his uneven breathing calming down somewhat, but still not ready for sleep yet.
“…But does that mean it’s the right thing to do?” he mumbled in a small voice.
Zoro was surprised. That was a pretty mature question. Not for the first time these days, he felt a mixture of distinct pride in his youngest crewmate on the one hand, and a sting of fierce sadness on the other.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe there isn’t a right thing. Only the least wrong thing. Maybe that’s all we’ve got.”
Chopper hm-ed in a thoughtful, assenting manner.
“Chopper,” Zoro found himself suddenly saying on impulse, “did you ever find out… back at Enies Lobby…”
“Huh? What?” Chopper’s voice rose and he turned in his bed again, towards Zoro.
Zoro had fallen silent again. What had made him say that? It was far too late in the night to go into that kind of stuff, and he didn’t even know what the point would be. Except that he might be the only one who remembered it now. And somehow that mattered.
“…Well…” he went on slowly, hesitantly, “…do you remember Luffy was fighting the strongest of those Government people, that bastard with the pigeon and the leopard zoan fruit?”
“Sure, I remember that!” Chopper sounded surprised. “I wouldn’t forget all that! Even though it seems like a long time ago now. But it was important, because we got Robin back! And that guy was pretty scary.”
Zoro nodded uselessly in the dark room. “Yeah. He was strong. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him. Not back then. We’ve faced a lot worse since, but people like that you don’t forget in a hurry.”
“Luffy beat him, though,” said Chopper in a proud, satisfied tone.
“He did, yeah,” said Zoro slowly. “But there was a point where that guy – oh yeah, Rob Lucci, that’s the name, I forgot – must have knocked him down pretty hard so that he couldn’t get up. I was busy fighting, I didn’t see it, but then I saw Usopp turning around and looking back, and then…”
He paused: he’d been going to say, ‘and then he took the mask off’, but now he remembered who he was talking to. It wasn’t that he cared about keeping that silly secret any longer, but stopping to explain would just take too much time.
So he only went on, “…And then he went as far as he could on the bridge, to the place closest to, uh, that place where those two were…” It had been in the ruins of a smashed-up pillar, hadn’t it? Zoro frowned as he tried to recall the outlay of the Bridge of Hesitation – or what had remained of it, at that point – in his mind.
“Anyway… then he started to yell at Luffy from there. If he hadn’t done that, I’m pretty sure Lucci would have gone on to grab Robin and kill most, maybe all of us, I think.”
“I didn’t know that at all!” Chopper’s voice was pure round-eyed amazement.
“Yeah… he shouted some pretty good things, too, though I didn’t catch all of it. I was busy guarding his back, and I dunno if you remember but the battle noise right then was loud as hell.”
“I do remember that…” Chopper spoke slowly as well, now. “I couldn’t move at all, but I remember the noise, and the battle smells, and that the sky had gone all dark from smoke…”
“Right,” said Zoro, noticing there was only a slight tone of shame and regret in Chopper’s voice now, when recalling how incapacitated he’d been. Made sense – like the others, Chopper had seen many battles since Enies Lobby, and had like the rest of them become much stronger. “Franky was pretty close by there, but with all that noise he probably didn’t hear any of it. What he – what Usopp shouted.”
“B-but… but what did he say?” asked Chopper anxiously.
“Oh… stuff about how this wasn’t hell and Luffy should get up and finish the job, so we could all go home… And he should stop worrying people so much.” Zoro paused, putting a hand behind his head as he stared right up, at the ceiling he couldn’t see in the dark. His voice had grown hoarser. It was hard to find the right words, hard to try to reach out from the wadding to grope for them.
Am I telling it right? he suddenly wondered. I didn’t just imagine that part about the worrying, did I? I know his voice dropped a lot at that point… No. No, he was right. That was how it was. He’d heard right.
He took a deep breath and went on, still speaking slowly and cautiously, “Though I think what worked the best was that he challenged the leopard guy at the same time. He said he was going to take him on, even called him names… You know, Lucci could probably have killed him in two seconds or less and I’m sure he knew that, but… well, that got Luffy up all right. And once he was up on his feet he managed to beat him.”
“Wow, really?! Is it really true?” squealed Chopper, and his voice sounded so much like when he listened to Usopp’s tales that Zoro couldn’t help but smile, briefly. There was something warm and wet behind his eyelids. He clenched his fists together and swallowed, pushing it away, because Chopper didn’t need to hear or scent that.
“Yeah,” he whispered softly. “It’s really true.” He felt something pierce him, sharply and deeply, like a master blade stabbing right through. But at the same time it also felt as if the mountain-heavy weights had grown just a tiny bit lighter.
*
Dropping off to Brook’s lullabies, Luffy had spent several hours in a deep, dreamless sleep. Gradually, he started to drift into dream territory now and then, then drifted out again. Those were very vague, formless, confusing dreams at first – too confusing to even try to make any sense of. There were tunnels that turned into jungles that turned into prisons; there were monsters that turned into clouds, oceans that became stony floors: that kind of thing. And always falling, falling, falling…
At some point he seemed to be in a garden of tangerine trees built for giants, where the tangerines were as big as Grandpa’s cannonballs and the trees were Odz-sized. A normal-sized squirrel told him this was just part of Impel Down these days, but that must be wrong since the garden looked really nice and Impel Down really wasn’t. Then there was shouting and a whirlpool and things that were bad to think about and he must have wound up somewhere else.
Later, or maybe earlier, he was floating through what looked like a desert, although it wasn’t hot but it was dry. There were people there, sitting all still and not wanting to move because they were too dried out and tired. They told him with weak voices that there was never any rain at all these days. Back in Sir Crocodile’s day, they claimed, there had been lots of rain, but some evil pirate had defeated him and since that day it had never rained again.
Luffy tried to tell them that they had it all wrong, that Crocodile had taken the rain away and that beating him had brought it back. He told them over and over that this weird desert must be just some odd corner of the country, and if they just moved over the hills they’d see there was rain all over the place these days. But they simply wouldn’t listen to him, they just stared into the air with blank dead eyes and kept mumbling the same things. Luffy thought he should start digging to find them some water, but the sand turned to quicksand and then it pulled him down and then he wound up somewhere else; drifting, tumbling, falling...
*
The sun wasn’t very high up and there was still dew in the grass, so it must be early in the morning. But it wasn’t dawn. The sun was yellow and warm and not red or pink at all. A faint breeze was blowing, but there wasn’t a single cloud in the deep blue sky. The air felt high and fresh and clear and full of excitement.
Luffy breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the grass and the trees, of the earth and flowers and the salty smell of the sea. He was standing at the top of a green hill, looking down on his home village. It was Fuchsia all right – there was Makino’s inn, there the grocer’s shop and the Mayor’s house – but there were more houses there than he remembered. Some of them he wasn’t sure who might live in them – and yet they looked very right, being there. There even seemed to be two inns, Makino’s and someone else’s, but that was okay too. It wasn’t wrong at all.
Off to one side, near where Luffy was standing, was a big white house with hedges and trees around it. It looked both richer and lonelier than the other houses. Beyond the village the sea lay waiting, glittering in the sunlight.
Luffy just knew this was the start of a great day, a day of glorious and really cool adventure. He could just feel it. The air tingled with it.
It felt impossible to just walk down the slope so he started jogging, then broke into a run just because he liked to. There didn’t seem to be anyone out in the village yet. Probably everyone was staying in bed because it was a day of rest today or something. Those sleepyheads! Luffy toyed with the idea of shouting something just to get everyone up. It might be pretty fun to surprise them and then run away laughing. But he put it aside. Today was a day of adventures, not pranks. And in a way it felt cool to be the only one up and about.
He slowed down his steps, sauntering towards the tiny stone pier, then stopped before reaching it. It looked like there was a small dark spot there, right on the horizon… yup, so it was! It must be a ship of some kind, coming here!
So, the adventure was starting already! How about that? Luffy jumped with excitement, then squinted his eyes trying to see better. It was far too far away to see any details about the ship. He hoped it would come here soon.
Maybe it was Shanks and his men, coming back here to pick him up after all, saying how sorry they were they’d left him! …No, wait, that wasn’t right. Luffy frowned, tugging at his hat. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, and Shanks wouldn’t come back. He’d see him once he’d become Pirate King so he could give his hat back to him, as he’d promised. Not before then.
Well, maybe it was the Sunny, then? The other guys must have gotten lost somewhere forgetting where he was, but now they’d found him, so that was all right. Only… only…
Luffy blinked, then abruptly turned around, not looking at the ship anymore.
Suddenly he didn’t feel good about the ship that was coming, no matter who it was. There was a cold gaping feeling inside him, like a hole where the north wind blew through. What if… what if it was some kind of trick? Or, or maybe it was a ghost ship. What if it was something that looked like the Sunny and everyone seemed to be on board, only they couldn’t hear him and see him? Maybe they’d be transparent like ghosts. Or maybe he’d be the transparent one.
Or the ship might be an enemy ship, bearing some really bad news he didn’t care to hear about. Now all at once there seemed to be too many bad, wrong ships it could be and not enough right, good ones. But even if he wasn’t looking anymore he saw it in the corner of his eye, the dark shadow on the water, steadily coming closer.
He turned and ran, knowing he was trapped. He needed to get away, get out, out, OUT…
*
Gasping for breath, he sat up in his wooden bunk, then blinked a few confused moments before realising he was home. The morning light was coming through from under the doors leading out to lawn deck. He looked around quickly. Franky, Brook and Chopper were sleeping (and the extra bed was untouched as usual, but he didn't want to look at that one). Zoro’s bed was empty – probably doing some early training – and so was Sanji’s.
Good! Luffy scrambled into his clothes and ran out towards the galley. There seemed to be something odd with the sky but he had no time to investigate that now. The awful gaping hole inside was still there from the strange dream, and breakfast was the only thing he could think of to fill it with. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough but at least he had to try.
Continues in Chapter Five
op_fanforall ages ago. Again, warning for character death and very strong angst.Edit as of Feb. 2010: Title change.
Title: Absence, Chapter 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Characters: All the Strawhats
Spoilers/setting: I think of this as taking place some time in the future, after the current arc (Impel Down) and other unknown future events.
Genre: Serious angst; deathfic
Summary/what has gone before: This comes from a prompt on
op_fanforall asking for angstfic in which Luffy has to deal with Usopp being dead. He's not dealing with it very well, so far, in fact he's got a selective amnesia, forgetting Usopp ever existed. In the last chapter, the crew, not able to take this anymore, decided to turn the ship around and go back to the island where it happened, without Luffy's knowledge. Note: As with earlier chapters, this revised version has been extensively betaed by
tonko and wendytigges and is much the better for it. Any remaining errors are solely my own fault. Constructive criticism and other feedback is highly encouraged.Previous parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three. See Chapter One for disclaimer.
The skies had already turned dark when Brook climbed up the foremast with light steps. Waiting on the yardarm for Mr. Sanji to appear on the other side so that they could unfurl the main sail together, he was somewhat surprised to find himself whistling an old, half-forgotten ditty. The weather still held clear, as they had hoped: above them, the constellations of the night sky were shining brilliantly, certainly more than clear enough for a navigator as talented (and beautiful!) as Miss Nami. Moreover, after hours of calm they were finally picking up a fine, brisk wind that blew in just the right direction for their new regressive course, if Brook was any judge (and he rather thought he was!). All in all, the excellent weather conditions seemed an auspicious start for their new endeavour – even if no-one in the crew still appeared to be entirely certain they were truly doing the right thing.
The strong wind did come with the drawback of making conversations awkward, unfortunately. Bit of a pity, Brook felt; especially as the crew finally, after the big meeting, seemed more inclined to talk freely to each other. He’d have liked to at least indulge in some pleasant chit-chat as he worked, but, well, you couldn’t have everything, Brook supposed with a philosophical hum, climbing over to the main mast to help out Mr. Franky there.
After the three of them had finished putting up the sails together, Mr. Sanji and Mr. Franky descended to the deck again, quite obviously eager to look for new things to do there. Brook could for think of nothing he’d be able to help out with, so he opted to stay where he was for the nonce, ready for duty if called upon. He sat down on the roof of the crow’s nest and looked up at the stars, sometimes taking up the violin for a few strokes before putting it down beside him again.
Ghosts, Brook had always felt, were scary. He didn’t care for ghosts at all, gliding around being transparent and intangible, rattling chains and talking with hollow voices, hungry for life and sometimes eager to bring others into their graves, according to certain stories. Ghost stories had never failed to make Brook’s teeth chatter and his blood run cold, even now when he didn’t have any blood at all (yohohoho)! As far as Brook was concerned, ghosts were weird, creepy, restless, alien, invulnerable, terrifying creatures.
But the occasional sensation of a familiar presence, the sound of a dear old voice or two, the feel of a warm, unseen hand on his shoulder, hearing bodiless fingers pick out a dear melody on a cracked old bass… well, that wasn’t ghosts. It was company.
In his more lucid moments, during those long dark years, he had been willing to admit that all those sensations might be simply due to vivid memories and his own lonely imagination. But he had never been quite sure. And whenever he was particularly worried and uncertain about something, he’d be inclined to talk to his old crewmates as if they were still there in the flesh, able to listen and to offer him advice.
They were at rest, he fervently hoped, now that their bones were buried in West Blue soil on Thriller Bark. Except for the part of them still present inside his tone dial, they had surely all left in peace, trusting that Brook would be able to fulfil their promise through sailing with his new crew. And comforting though it would be to imagine their faces again, something held Brook back from doing so. It wouldn’t quite be right, he felt.
But not all his old comrades were buried there. And in this moment, after so many years, the memory of one who was not rose unbidden in his mind until he practically felt the other there beside him, maybe holding a tankard of rum up to the sky and humming softly.
“I wonder if this is right, Captain,” Brook said softly to Captain Yorki. “If we are doing the right thing or not.”
He got a peaceful, indulgent smile from the man who had left the Grand Line over fifty years ago in a very small and fragile ship, suffering from a deadly sickness.
“Even for pirates, that’s not always that easy to know,” Captain Yorki said in reply, or so Brook fancied he would, chuckling softly before drinking from his tankard. “You know that, Brook, you’ve been a captain yourself.”
Brook sighed, shifting his slight weight around. “I don’t think I was ever all that good at it, Mr. Yorki,” he confessed. “Or perhaps times were easier back then. The choices didn’t seem as hard.”
“Or maybe that’s just how you’d like to remember it,” said the Captain, crossing his legs and looking down at the deck. “Damn, but this is a great-looking ship. And those are all good kids you’re sailing with now.”
“Of course, of course,” mumbled Brook, the old pain there again as if it had never left. “But I don’t know… I wonder what you would have done, Captain.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right question,” Captain Yorki said, inside the dark, echoing hollow of Brook’s head. “But if I’d be doing something like what that kid is doing, if I couldn’t really function like I should anymore… I’d like to think you guys would be trying to help me, would do what it takes to bring me back, rather than give up on me. I mean, you and I have met some crews where the captain was little more than a figurehead who spent most of his time drunk and ignored… And sure, they might survive on the seas for a while, but… I’d feel useless, that way. I’d wager this kid wouldn’t want that, either.”
“Ah… No, I don’t think that,” said Brook. He felt somewhat more at ease. “No, he wouldn’t want that at all,” he confirmed.
“And keep playing,” said his old captain’s voice. “You may be a Strawhat Pirate now, but you’re still a Rumba Pirate for all that. And we don’t stop the music for anything.”
“That’s true, Captain,” said Brook softly, and indeed his fingers were already handling the violin and the bow without him consciously deciding it. “That’s true. But I don’t know if I can find the right tunes…”
He said it too late – the presence was gone now, back into memories. Well, then. Brook looked back up at the stars. The wind paused, and in the lull he heard the voices of Mr. Sanji and Miss Nami coming up from below, as the cook kept asking for things to do and Miss Nami seemed to grow more and more exasperated.
“I wonder if I should tell them what I heard or not, back there,” Brook said, talking to himself alone now. The moment had somehow never seemed right, earlier in the council. And he couldn’t decide which one of his crewmates he should bother and possibly upset with the information – which was likely quite useless, anyway. It might well be best just to go on keeping it to himself.
He tucked the violin under his arm and started to gently skip down towards the deck. Quite possibly, a soothing melody or three was just what was needed down there.
*
After they’d turned the ship around and the sails were up to catch the breeze, and they had finished helping Franky set up the illumination, Zoro and Chopper hadn’t hung around for very long. It didn’t seem like Nami needed more help than she already had, what with Sanji and Robin keeping themselves by her side, and Franky and Brook rushing to and fro, full of energy. In fact, they’d hardly even noticed when swordsman and doctor left. But some people needed to be responsible enough to get some rest.
Zoro supposed he couldn’t blame them for being eager to finally do something constructive (hopefully), but he hoped at least some of those bozos would remember to go to sleep before the end of the night. Otherwise he and Chopper would probably be the only ones awake tomorrow morning. Besides Luffy of course.
He walked the steps down to the lawn deck with deliberate softness, trying to mask the way he seemed so heavy and clumsy these days. Part of it came from a sense of constantly feeling weighed down by something like huge, heavy slabs of lead and iron. Constantly pressing down on him, those invisible weights made it hard to breathe at times, as if he were in a tough battle. Lying down at night, that sensation could be particularly strong.
But at the same time, he also had a feeling of being wrapped up in thick, heavy wadding; not comforting but isolating. He’d feel like he needed to force himself to do even simple tasks and say just a few words, as if movements and speech could hardly slip through the stuff. Sometimes he found himself amazed that his crewmates could even hear and respond to him, all bundled up as he felt.
And sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be even deeper cocooned into the heavy warm cloth; unreachable, untouchable. Like Luffy.
Chopper also softened his steps as they came near the door to the boys’ cabin, finally going to tip-toes. He breathed in deeply, then pushed the door open with exaggerated slowness. Zoro didn’t blame him, though he doubted it made any difference one way or the other. He’d lost track of how long it had been since Luffy had fallen asleep, unwittingly aided by heavy food and special lullabies. He might well sleep until morning, though he might also wake up before that easily enough.
They both stopped by his bunk, looking at their captain where he lay in his pyjamas like usual; listening to his steady, slow, regular breathing, punctuated now and then by rather gentle snoring. At one point one of his toes twitched, then stopped.
Normally it wouldn’t occur to Zoro to wonder about other people’s dreams. Every man had a right to his own privacy, and dreams were as private as you could think of. But these days… Zoro couldn’t help but wonder if Luffy’s denial held fast while he was dreaming. Or did bits and pieces of the truth reach him then, only for the curtain to fall down again every time he woke up? Either way, the sheer strength of that mental control was pretty damn impressive, for all that it was turned the wrong way around.
Robin’s words during the council came back to him. Maybe they really were doing this more for their sake than for Luffy’s… But he shook his head and slouched away to wash up and brush his teeth, Chopper following on his heels. They’d made their choice. And even though right now they didn’t know what they’d do once those walls finally came tumbling down – and they would, they had to, one way or the other – well, that was just a bridge they’d have to build and cross once they got there.
He and Chopper changed into what passed for sleeping gear in the boys’ cabin (mostly older, more threadbare and dingier versions of what they wore during the day). Though still moving quietly and cautiously, Chopper was the faster of them, and had already been lying in his bunk for several minutes by the time Zoro pulled his old green t-shirt over his head. Chopper’s eyes were large and anxious as he stared up into the ceiling, obviously trying like hell to keep his composure.
“Well, g’night then,” mumbled Zoro as he turned out the lights and crept into his own bed.
“G’night…” answered Chopper in a small voice. They were both quiet for a few minutes. But sleep seemed more distant now than it had up on deck, the heavy weights pushing themselves down all the more on Zoro. For his part, Chopper was still breathing too quickly, too audibly, all hyped-up and nervous. He kept tossing and turning.
“I wish we could know... I wish we could just know a bit more of what will happen tomorrow,” whispered Chopper finally. “Just so we can be prepared for it! So we can plan.” His voice rose into a tone of anxious complaint.
“Whatever happens, happens,” said Zoro gruffly. “No use in thinking about it before the fact.”
“I – I know,” mumbled the reindeer, sighing deeply. “I know! But I just… well.” There was a quiet sniffle. “Never mind.” He moved in his bed again, making the hammock swing. Luffy’s soft snoring seemed to grow a bit stronger.
“I think you were right, Chopper,” Zoro made himself say into the darkness, despite the heavy, hard pressure on his chest. “At the council. What we’re doing now… it’s what Usopp would have wanted us to do. If it were someone else.”
Chopper lay still, his uneven breathing calming down somewhat, but still not ready for sleep yet.
“…But does that mean it’s the right thing to do?” he mumbled in a small voice.
Zoro was surprised. That was a pretty mature question. Not for the first time these days, he felt a mixture of distinct pride in his youngest crewmate on the one hand, and a sting of fierce sadness on the other.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe there isn’t a right thing. Only the least wrong thing. Maybe that’s all we’ve got.”
Chopper hm-ed in a thoughtful, assenting manner.
“Chopper,” Zoro found himself suddenly saying on impulse, “did you ever find out… back at Enies Lobby…”
“Huh? What?” Chopper’s voice rose and he turned in his bed again, towards Zoro.
Zoro had fallen silent again. What had made him say that? It was far too late in the night to go into that kind of stuff, and he didn’t even know what the point would be. Except that he might be the only one who remembered it now. And somehow that mattered.
“…Well…” he went on slowly, hesitantly, “…do you remember Luffy was fighting the strongest of those Government people, that bastard with the pigeon and the leopard zoan fruit?”
“Sure, I remember that!” Chopper sounded surprised. “I wouldn’t forget all that! Even though it seems like a long time ago now. But it was important, because we got Robin back! And that guy was pretty scary.”
Zoro nodded uselessly in the dark room. “Yeah. He was strong. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him. Not back then. We’ve faced a lot worse since, but people like that you don’t forget in a hurry.”
“Luffy beat him, though,” said Chopper in a proud, satisfied tone.
“He did, yeah,” said Zoro slowly. “But there was a point where that guy – oh yeah, Rob Lucci, that’s the name, I forgot – must have knocked him down pretty hard so that he couldn’t get up. I was busy fighting, I didn’t see it, but then I saw Usopp turning around and looking back, and then…”
He paused: he’d been going to say, ‘and then he took the mask off’, but now he remembered who he was talking to. It wasn’t that he cared about keeping that silly secret any longer, but stopping to explain would just take too much time.
So he only went on, “…And then he went as far as he could on the bridge, to the place closest to, uh, that place where those two were…” It had been in the ruins of a smashed-up pillar, hadn’t it? Zoro frowned as he tried to recall the outlay of the Bridge of Hesitation – or what had remained of it, at that point – in his mind.
“Anyway… then he started to yell at Luffy from there. If he hadn’t done that, I’m pretty sure Lucci would have gone on to grab Robin and kill most, maybe all of us, I think.”
“I didn’t know that at all!” Chopper’s voice was pure round-eyed amazement.
“Yeah… he shouted some pretty good things, too, though I didn’t catch all of it. I was busy guarding his back, and I dunno if you remember but the battle noise right then was loud as hell.”
“I do remember that…” Chopper spoke slowly as well, now. “I couldn’t move at all, but I remember the noise, and the battle smells, and that the sky had gone all dark from smoke…”
“Right,” said Zoro, noticing there was only a slight tone of shame and regret in Chopper’s voice now, when recalling how incapacitated he’d been. Made sense – like the others, Chopper had seen many battles since Enies Lobby, and had like the rest of them become much stronger. “Franky was pretty close by there, but with all that noise he probably didn’t hear any of it. What he – what Usopp shouted.”
“B-but… but what did he say?” asked Chopper anxiously.
“Oh… stuff about how this wasn’t hell and Luffy should get up and finish the job, so we could all go home… And he should stop worrying people so much.” Zoro paused, putting a hand behind his head as he stared right up, at the ceiling he couldn’t see in the dark. His voice had grown hoarser. It was hard to find the right words, hard to try to reach out from the wadding to grope for them.
Am I telling it right? he suddenly wondered. I didn’t just imagine that part about the worrying, did I? I know his voice dropped a lot at that point… No. No, he was right. That was how it was. He’d heard right.
He took a deep breath and went on, still speaking slowly and cautiously, “Though I think what worked the best was that he challenged the leopard guy at the same time. He said he was going to take him on, even called him names… You know, Lucci could probably have killed him in two seconds or less and I’m sure he knew that, but… well, that got Luffy up all right. And once he was up on his feet he managed to beat him.”
“Wow, really?! Is it really true?” squealed Chopper, and his voice sounded so much like when he listened to Usopp’s tales that Zoro couldn’t help but smile, briefly. There was something warm and wet behind his eyelids. He clenched his fists together and swallowed, pushing it away, because Chopper didn’t need to hear or scent that.
“Yeah,” he whispered softly. “It’s really true.” He felt something pierce him, sharply and deeply, like a master blade stabbing right through. But at the same time it also felt as if the mountain-heavy weights had grown just a tiny bit lighter.
*
Dropping off to Brook’s lullabies, Luffy had spent several hours in a deep, dreamless sleep. Gradually, he started to drift into dream territory now and then, then drifted out again. Those were very vague, formless, confusing dreams at first – too confusing to even try to make any sense of. There were tunnels that turned into jungles that turned into prisons; there were monsters that turned into clouds, oceans that became stony floors: that kind of thing. And always falling, falling, falling…
At some point he seemed to be in a garden of tangerine trees built for giants, where the tangerines were as big as Grandpa’s cannonballs and the trees were Odz-sized. A normal-sized squirrel told him this was just part of Impel Down these days, but that must be wrong since the garden looked really nice and Impel Down really wasn’t. Then there was shouting and a whirlpool and things that were bad to think about and he must have wound up somewhere else.
Later, or maybe earlier, he was floating through what looked like a desert, although it wasn’t hot but it was dry. There were people there, sitting all still and not wanting to move because they were too dried out and tired. They told him with weak voices that there was never any rain at all these days. Back in Sir Crocodile’s day, they claimed, there had been lots of rain, but some evil pirate had defeated him and since that day it had never rained again.
Luffy tried to tell them that they had it all wrong, that Crocodile had taken the rain away and that beating him had brought it back. He told them over and over that this weird desert must be just some odd corner of the country, and if they just moved over the hills they’d see there was rain all over the place these days. But they simply wouldn’t listen to him, they just stared into the air with blank dead eyes and kept mumbling the same things. Luffy thought he should start digging to find them some water, but the sand turned to quicksand and then it pulled him down and then he wound up somewhere else; drifting, tumbling, falling...
*
The sun wasn’t very high up and there was still dew in the grass, so it must be early in the morning. But it wasn’t dawn. The sun was yellow and warm and not red or pink at all. A faint breeze was blowing, but there wasn’t a single cloud in the deep blue sky. The air felt high and fresh and clear and full of excitement.
Luffy breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the grass and the trees, of the earth and flowers and the salty smell of the sea. He was standing at the top of a green hill, looking down on his home village. It was Fuchsia all right – there was Makino’s inn, there the grocer’s shop and the Mayor’s house – but there were more houses there than he remembered. Some of them he wasn’t sure who might live in them – and yet they looked very right, being there. There even seemed to be two inns, Makino’s and someone else’s, but that was okay too. It wasn’t wrong at all.
Off to one side, near where Luffy was standing, was a big white house with hedges and trees around it. It looked both richer and lonelier than the other houses. Beyond the village the sea lay waiting, glittering in the sunlight.
Luffy just knew this was the start of a great day, a day of glorious and really cool adventure. He could just feel it. The air tingled with it.
It felt impossible to just walk down the slope so he started jogging, then broke into a run just because he liked to. There didn’t seem to be anyone out in the village yet. Probably everyone was staying in bed because it was a day of rest today or something. Those sleepyheads! Luffy toyed with the idea of shouting something just to get everyone up. It might be pretty fun to surprise them and then run away laughing. But he put it aside. Today was a day of adventures, not pranks. And in a way it felt cool to be the only one up and about.
He slowed down his steps, sauntering towards the tiny stone pier, then stopped before reaching it. It looked like there was a small dark spot there, right on the horizon… yup, so it was! It must be a ship of some kind, coming here!
So, the adventure was starting already! How about that? Luffy jumped with excitement, then squinted his eyes trying to see better. It was far too far away to see any details about the ship. He hoped it would come here soon.
Maybe it was Shanks and his men, coming back here to pick him up after all, saying how sorry they were they’d left him! …No, wait, that wasn’t right. Luffy frowned, tugging at his hat. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, and Shanks wouldn’t come back. He’d see him once he’d become Pirate King so he could give his hat back to him, as he’d promised. Not before then.
Well, maybe it was the Sunny, then? The other guys must have gotten lost somewhere forgetting where he was, but now they’d found him, so that was all right. Only… only…
Luffy blinked, then abruptly turned around, not looking at the ship anymore.
Suddenly he didn’t feel good about the ship that was coming, no matter who it was. There was a cold gaping feeling inside him, like a hole where the north wind blew through. What if… what if it was some kind of trick? Or, or maybe it was a ghost ship. What if it was something that looked like the Sunny and everyone seemed to be on board, only they couldn’t hear him and see him? Maybe they’d be transparent like ghosts. Or maybe he’d be the transparent one.
Or the ship might be an enemy ship, bearing some really bad news he didn’t care to hear about. Now all at once there seemed to be too many bad, wrong ships it could be and not enough right, good ones. But even if he wasn’t looking anymore he saw it in the corner of his eye, the dark shadow on the water, steadily coming closer.
He turned and ran, knowing he was trapped. He needed to get away, get out, out, OUT…
*
Gasping for breath, he sat up in his wooden bunk, then blinked a few confused moments before realising he was home. The morning light was coming through from under the doors leading out to lawn deck. He looked around quickly. Franky, Brook and Chopper were sleeping (and the extra bed was untouched as usual, but he didn't want to look at that one). Zoro’s bed was empty – probably doing some early training – and so was Sanji’s.
Good! Luffy scrambled into his clothes and ran out towards the galley. There seemed to be something odd with the sky but he had no time to investigate that now. The awful gaping hole inside was still there from the strange dream, and breakfast was the only thing he could think of to fill it with. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough but at least he had to try.
Continues in Chapter Five
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 02:34 pm (UTC)“I wonder if I should tell them what I heard or not, back there,” Brook said, talking to himself alone now.
Do we know what this is? I can't remember. I should reread the previous chapters.
God, I love that Enies Lobby scene with Usopp & Luffy. Thanks for reminding me.
Off to one side, near where Luffy was standing, was a big white house with hedges and trees around it. It looked both richer and lonelier than the other houses.
Kaya's house, right? Interesting. I'm guessing that Luffy's dreamscape will come into play in future chapters. I wonder how that will play out, especially since they're going to return to the place of Usopp's death "tomorrow". Ah well, I'll have to wait for the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 02:49 pm (UTC)Do we know what this is? I can't remember. I should reread the previous chapters.
This isn't in the previous chapters: it's my clumsy attempt at forshadowing stuff that will turn out later.
I love chapter 427 an awful lot too.
Kaya's house, right?
You guessed correctly! And you're right about Luffy's dream coming back later, too. They're not going to return to the island the very next day, though... it will take several days of sailing at least, maybe more if they're unlucky. Assuming they do get there...
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 07:41 am (UTC)I really am enjoying and am horribly impressed by the way you're juggling everyone's reactions and keeping them so true to form. Brook was outstanding here and Zoro's sense of suffocating, isolating grief feels so authentic.
As for Luffy, I just want to cry for him because he's suffering so badly in his own way.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 03:41 pm (UTC)Very glad you liked Brook here. I felt I had to treat him a bit differently from the others because of his past, but I was worried it might come off as weird. Seems not judging from readers' reactions, though.
And I'm relieved Zoro didn't feel wrong to you, either (he is, of course, very important).
because he's suffering so badly in his own way.
Yeah, he really is.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 05:39 pm (UTC)Brook's part here may be a little different from prior prose, but I agree with everyone else—I think it fits in and is wonderfully suited to him. I can't really imagine how it could be written any other way. The convo with Yorki and the ambiguity of whether he's talking to a figment of his imagination or something more … and just the all-around fullness of Brook as a character. ♥♥♥ I don't think I could pull it off nearly as well.
And yet again, I find it striking how many different angles you manage to come at this situation from. Who's talking always seems to be changing up, and you manage to keep from much rehashing of themes. Thus every section feels like it has a purpose in the overall scheme, whether the pace is packed with action or not.
A few nitpicks if you care to make use of them (mostly minor stylistic things.…)
Here I think you could tighten the prose up by getting rid of the "for the moment," which seems a little repetitive when you get to "for the nonce." Oddly enough, "for the nonce" is a phrase I didn't really know (is it British? Classical? Am I just living in a for-the-nonce-less bubble here?), but I think it's quite lovely and suited to this section—also really not that hard to guess at in the context—so I definitely would prefer to keep it over the blander "for the moment," and let the context do the explaining to anyone who might not know it.
"a warm" rather than "an warm" And also the ending to this paragraph… so ironically heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. Only a few paragraphs in and I want to hug him, and it doesn't even have anything to do with the sadness over Usopp. ;_;
Again, maybe to tighten it up, get rid of the first "now."
"than she already had"
…Would be my preference.
First off, this is only slightly awkward, and as it so happens, not everyone will find it a problem…
I spent a while just trying to puzzle out why "got" in that sentence sounds vaguely strange to me. I wanted to put "gotten" instead but then … even that started sounding odd. Apparently proper usage of past perfect/present perfect with "get" depends heavily on region. There are also different functions of "get" which make it even more fun (or not). In any case, using just "have", some observed in the discussions I turned up, sounds more "educated" or "proper" or "literary" than "had got/gotten" and therefore, is more suited to writing. I think I speak that way as well, because all around, most examples with "had got" and "had gotten" sounded slightly off to me.
The Straight Dope (http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/258/whats-correct-he-had-got-some-or-he-had-gotten-some) explains that "got" and "gotten" are both past participles, but acceptability and implication varies between British English and American English. This forum topic (http://forum.wordreference.com/showthread.php?t=483041) also has an extensive discussion, with opinions coming from several speakers from different regions. cont...
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 05:40 pm (UTC)I feel like there is also a subtle situational difference implied by each of the phrases "get help" and "have help." "Get help" seems to imply a certain amount of active seeking out of help. Whereas, in the phrase, "what with Sanji and Robin keeping themselves by her side", it seems implied that their presence is not specifically because Nami has sought them out—rather, the two are waiting, making themselves available.
"Have help", on the other hand, doesn't have such implications of "seeking out." The focus is simply on the fact that the help is there. Which … I feel is more what was intended in this sentence. Anyway, I almost deleted this whole discussion entirely TBH. It's not even going to bother every English speaker. Just certain ones. So … yeah. Only kept is since it might be linguistically interesting anyway… >.>
I like this comparison for Zoro. How each member of the crew reacts/narrates in their own unique way … still can't get over it. (Is it possible to belabor this point too much?)
To be honest, the part in the parentheses threw me out of the scene a little bit. I guess I was kinda taking this from a third person limited POV, while the parentheses seemed more in third omniscient. I could just be perceiving the POV wrong, or maybe I just have something against parentheses, but I'd suggest making the part in them more subtle if the POV is intended to be third limited. (I figure the empty bed is a point you want the reader to notice, though?) What if, rather than Luffy failing to notice the existence of the bed altogether, he sees it as the bed that has always been extra and empty and purposeless, and that it's weird they keep such a bed? The mentioning could then be more subtle and definitely in third limited at the same time, more like an aside Luffy would think in his current state….
Sorry this is so long. Let me know if I talk too much....
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 07:51 pm (UTC)When it comes to "have got" - and also the use of "gotten" - I tend to be more American than British, as is perhaps often the case with my prose due to more exposure to American writers these days, though my spelling is always according to UK rules (well, as my Word program defines them, anyway). Also, my chief beta is Canadian, possibly a factor... "Gotten" is the most obvious case - I know it's American-only these days, yet I can't seem to make myself use "got". I think it's because the Swedish equivalent is distinct in form to the simple past tense, so the British "get got got" feels unsatisfying somehow... All right, that was a tangent! Looking at the sentence at hand, I agree with you that a simple "had" sounds better, so I've changed it!
"For the nonce" is a British English expression I've seen in quite a few books; I guess it might count as rather formal and old-fashioned these days. I didn't even know it was British-only and has a formal ring until my beta pointed it out (I'd made Franky think it, which isn't quite right!). But I do think it's the kind of expression that fits Brook well - I tend to think of him as kind of English-y.
Again, thanks awfully! *loves getting long replies*
no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 03:54 am (UTC)Franky using "for the nonce"? It would likely have elicited a completely ???????? reaction if I had been reading along and seen it.... And I would have wondered if he was running on tea again (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXQpbZg94jo). Although funnily enough, even as a gentleman he still rolls his Rs a little like a tough street punk.
...and actually, I had a little nitpick about a word Franky uses in the next chapter. But I'll just leave it for then, those comments have also been pretty much finished for a while now. I just need to... tie up the bow on them, as it were.
I agree on Brook. Definitely think of him as English-y. Even the way he asks to see your underpants is just so ... polite and old-fashioned in the Japanese. XD The language he uses to ask that never fails to amuse me.