Chapter Text
You know, sometimes it’s pretty unbelievable how we got to where we are. I mean, even I have trouble remembering the ragtag group of misfits this crew used to be… at times, anyways –and I’m no slouch when it comes to believing things, let me tell ya! Hey, why the smirk?! It’s just that so much has happened since then, so much that the past is a bit like a dream… A crazy dream that basically started as a nightmare.
But, I can tell I’m getting ahead of myself. Here, let me explain, then you’ll see.
I guess it all started when I was nine, and I tried to grab some food, this one particular day. As a kid, I didn’t really have any money –or really that much of anything– so… I’m sure you can guess where this is going, right? Heh, the shopkeep naturally wasn’t very happy about that…
I wonder if he remembered me from the very first time I met him, before that? Not that it really matters, I suppose… not yet, anyways. Back on topic! Bithy was a big guy, a so-called ‘ex-crook’ who liked to pretend that he wasn’t going bald and always had this really slimy smile on his face. Can you tell I really don’t like him?
-~-*-~-
“Get back here, you little runt! At least have the balls to pay for what you grab!!”
The burly man’s bellowing did little to stir up the crowd, despite his best efforts. Sweat poured down his reddened face and his chest heaved with every laboured gasp. All around him, the street was filled with onlookers, yet no-one made a single move to help. There was no law on the island of Jaya, after all, no reason to go out of your way to do anyone any favours.
Bithy grit his chipped teeth, focusing his attention on just one person instead. Ahead of him by several springy strides was a lanky boy, dirty from blond-crowned head to bare toe and bearing an infuriatingly unapologetic grin. A vivid cyan fruit was grasped firmly in one of the child’s hands –a hand that he had raised to wave gleefully in the air– even as the fleet-footed brat wove through the crowd, just out of his reach. All around them, rolled eyes, annoyed frowns, muttered curses, and harsh grunts were the only responses the crowd offered as it shifted to avoid being barrelled into by either male.
Just another normal day in Mock Town.
“You sure you want it back so bad?” the boy jeered back over his shoulder, still not out of breath, even after his breakneck sprint away from Bithy’s storefront. His grin somehow managed to widen even further before the brat tightened his grip on his prize and continued matter-of-factly. “I got street-germs, ya know. That’s what ev’ryone says, and I betcha heard it, too; ‘Yan’s dirty and got germs’. So you can’t sell it now.”
At that, the red-faced vendor let out a wordless growl and lunged at the thief, who ducked nimbly under his arms and to the side, laughing when he heard pounding feet and heavy breathing in his wake. Didn’t Bithy know that this was just a game? Yan snickered as he raced down the road with renewed fervour, turning down a side-street as he reached it and finally starting to feel the beginnings of burning in his chest and legs. The blond boy wracked his memory of the town’s layout, trying to map out his escape, quite certain that his pursuer hardly cared about the theft anymore, and was just angry.
Angry meant dangerous, and –reckless or not– even Yan couldn’t handle these games when they got too out of hand. With Bithy’s harsh gasps bearing down on his heels, he had to end this sooner rather than later.
He was concentrating so much on staying just ahead –but not too far, not yet, not when he was still playing– of the old man, and weaving between people and boxes and barrels and buildings and stalls, that he missed his intended escape route… by at least three turns. Instead, the blond boy found himself skidding to a halt, staring down one of the many dilapidated alleyways throughout Mock Town. Old wooden crates had been piled precariously-high against the far wall, each box having long lost the strength to withstand more than it already did, even his own small weight. Yan spun on his heel, breathing deeply, trying to force his lungs to stop crying out.
Bithy’s broad sweaty chest was right in front of him. The shopkeeper made a grab for his hands, but he pulled away quickly, just in time to avoid the man’s sausage-fingers. “Don’t… play… with… me, ya damn brat…! That there fruit is worth more than you’ll ever have, in your entire life!!” Yan’s pursuer snarled between heaving, rattling breaths, and the boy allowed himself a moment to admire the dark purplish-red the man’s skin had become, even as a large and very beefy hand was held out expectantly, and even as he edged slowly away from him and closer to the rotten crates. “Just hand it over, boy-o, and we can forget this even happened…”
Yan paused, raising his prize up to eye level –being careful to keep the elder in his line of sight at the same time– and made a show of scrutinising it. In truth, the fruit looked entirely innocent, if a little strange. It could have passed for some kind of thin-skinned orange, if not for the colour, the spikes coming off of it at almost every angle, and the swirling patterns that coiled towards the centre of the fruit from each point… and it was glowing dimly, which had been what drew the boy to take it over all the others at Bithy’s stall in the first place.
“More than I’d ever have? But how’d you know that? You see the future, old man?” Yan peered up at him, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow. Bithy didn’t bother offering any response other than to bounce his hand a little in mid-air. Yan’s attention returned to the thing in his hand, humming lowly as he turned it over for a few moments before nodding his head sharply. “Okay. I will”
“Ya will? Good, no mo––… The hell ya doin’, kid?!!”
The blond’s face scrunched up in disgust, even as should-have-been-much-tastier-than-this juice dribbled down his chin and over his fingers. After chewing very deliberately –and perhaps just a little showily, because there really wasn’t any reason to open his mouth that widely– he forced the mouthful down his throat and took another bite out of the foul-tasting thing; he was positive that it was no kind of fruit that he’d ever even heard of, now, and if it wasn’t for the distinct lack of green or white fluffiness upon the skin… well, he’d have bet anything that it was terribly off, or at least overripe. Still, food was food, so he couldn’t really complain.
…It still tasted disgusting, though… and yet the look on Bithy’s face made it more than worth the assault on his tastebuds.
“You… You… You…!” The man was spluttering, opening and closing his mouth in a rather excellent impression of a fish, which was a far sight better than the usual sly smile. “That’s a… a few… hundred million… beri… you just ate… at least…!”
Yan snorted and levelled him with his best deadpan stare. “This stuff is worth a few hundred million? Sheesh, do rich people have no sense of taste, or something?” he drawled, mimicking some of the tones he’d heard Bithy use when trying to get people’s money. It was only when the last of his stolen lunch disappeared into his mouth –and when he’d forced himself to swallow it down– that the barrel-chested shopkeeper snapped out of his stupor, charging forward like an angry bull with an equally-enraged roar. The boy was taken by surprise, and he barely even had the time to brace his feet and start to raise his arms to cover his head against the inevitable collision…
The roaring suddenly transformed into a shrill scream that was entirely out of place, and an oddly-soft impact followed by a sort of warm tugging sensation bled throughout Yan’s body. It took a moment for the situation to register in his brain; he wasn’t hurt, nor was he on the ground… Red-amber eyes snapped open to look frantically around the alleyway. There was no sign of the furious old man in front of him, nor to the side…
The scent of burning flesh seared the blond’s nostrils, making his eyes begin to water, and all it took was one single glance behind him to see the reason why… in all of its horrifying glory.
Bithy’s body still writhed on the ground, bathed in white-yellow flames, twisted and squashed almost beyond recognition.
-~-*-~-
Yep, that’s how I got and first used my very own super-special, once-in-a-lifetime power! Okay, okay, I’ll do this more seriously… I guess it’s kinda on the gruesome side, though, isn’t it? But hey, once I got the hang of it –which didn’t take that long, actually, unless you’re meaning actually working on mastering it, in which case I’m probably still not quite there yet– I didn’t really ‘burnity-squish’ anyone again… shut up, that’s what I called it, back then.
I hope you’re not too grossed-out by the whole ‘charred carcass’ thing, by the way, as it’s kinda what happens if people get burned that badly. It was pretty damned obvious that my new power was fiery, too, considering what happened. And hey, I said I’d explain the whole thing, didn’t I?
Oh? I, uh, didn’t, did I? Eh, whatever. You get the idea.
Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah… I was gonna move on to how I met the others who set off from Jaya with me. You might wanna make sure you’re comfortable, this’ll take a while…