Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Koala says. “Happy birthday. I have a present for you.”

“No, wait, sorry, back up,” Sabo says, accepting the folder she’s holding out. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Actually it is,” she answers, and leans over her stack of papers to open the folder sitting on top. “See?”

Sabo blinks and stares down at the paper. It’s a profile, just like every profile the Revolutionary Army creates and keeps, only it’s his picture in the corner.

Not a current picture, though; one from years and years ago, gap-toothed and short-haired, and the name beside it reads Sabo Outlook.

“What,” he says, fingers slowly closing on the paper. “What is this?”

“Happy birthday,” Koala repeats, and holds out the rest of the stack of papers. “I got you your past.”

He looks up at her, eyes wide. She looks away, back to the papers he’s not taking, so she doesn’t have to see the expression on his face.

His fingers close on the paper and reopen, and he swallows once and then says, “Why?”

“Because it was bothering you,” she says, shrugging casually. “And if my partner is distracted in the field, it puts me in danger too. Entirely self-interest, I promise.”

He flips a few pages, skims and bit, and makes a punched-out noise. “This is—this is years’ worth of data—Koala, this must’ve taken—”

“Entirely selfish,” she repeats, and waves the stack of papers he still hasn’t accepted. “And it’s not like I did it alone or anything. Turns out there’s no shortage of idiots here willing to dig into your sordid past in hopes of embarrassing childhood photos.”

“There are none,” he says distractedly, eyes skimming wildly over the pages. “They wouldn’t’ve stood for any photos that were embarrassing.”

Ah, so it is helping. “Not even one?” she asks, and juggles the stack until she gets to the bottom folder and slides out the picture inside.

This is the piece de resistance, the thing that finally made the file complete enough to hand over; this is the thing she had to go all the way to East Blue to get in person. She holds it out delicately, by the edges, and waits until he looks up.

His eyes catch on it and he freezes. “Wha—” he says, and then his voice fails him.

The look on his face is worth every second this took, right up until his eyes roll up, his knees give out, and the bastard honest-to-god swoons into a faint right in front of her.

She stares blankly at his prone body and swears. That’s not really the reaction she was going for.

But Sabo is nothing if not dramatic, and he proves that by sleeping for the next three days. Koala checks on him constantly and swears at him for most of it. “If you didn’t like it, you could have just said so, ” she tells him, checking his forehead. Seems his fever’s broken, but he’s been tossing and turning, making noise like he’s having a nightmare, and that’s not how Sabo sleeps.

Sabo sleeps light, still and in short bursts, mostly, or more rarely, deeply and sprawled everywhere, but he never makes noise.

She sits in the chair beside the bed to do her paperwork--and some of his, too--just to keep an eye on things. It’d be very much a Sabo thing to do, to die in his sleep at their base just to be contrary.

Then again, that only applied if Sabo were ever going to die. Which he isn’t, Koala knows, because Sabo has a spine of pure hatred and spite for blood, and he’d kill death itself before leaving his mission unfinished.

She’s not there when he does wake up. She’s off making arrangements, and when she hears, she goes still, eyes closing, and she breathes out for what feels like the first time in days. It’s an entire second of weakness before she opens her eyes and says, “Good. I want this ready for us to set sail in two hours, then.”

“Yes sir,” one of the planning guys says, snapping a salute so smart he nearly knocks himself over.

She’s already turning, though, and when she gets to Sabo’s room, she pauses a second outside the door to control her breathing. Then she opens the door and leans casually against the frame.

Sabo’s sitting on what used to be the bed before he repurposed it as a desk. There’s papers everywhere, and piles of notebooks, ones that she recognizes from Sabo’s private collection. “Wow,” she says. “Morning, workaholic.”

He ignores the jab and looks up at her with slightly wild eyes and extremely wild hair. “I forgot Ace,” he says blankly. “I forgot Luffy.”

“Didn’t like your brithday present then?” she asks mildly, and his hands tighten around the folder he’s holding. “Maybe you’ll like the second part better. C’mon, sleeping beauty. We’re going on a field trip.”

He doesn’t ask where they’re going. He clearly wants to but he keeps the question behind his teeth because his curiosity apparently does not outweigh giving Koala the satisfaction.

She takes great satisfaction from it anyway.

“This is eating you up inside, isn’t it?” she asks, and the grin on her face is entirely self satisfied.

“Not at all,” he says pleasantly. “It’s about the journey, after all.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she says, but she’s laughing.

“At least I’m in good company.”

“I’m the best company you could ever ask for, and don’t you forget it.”

“I dunno, I’ve met some real nice sea kings,” he muses.

“Most of them wanted to murder you.”

“Yeah, but so do you, so it’s still even.”

“Only sometimes,” she demurs, and then, “We’re here.”

He looks up, taking in the whole island, smiles slightly, and says, “How nice. It’s a very lovely island. I’ve always wanted to visit…here.”

She doesn’t mean to roll her eyes, really—it’s an ingrained response at this point.  “You don’t even know what this island is called,” she accuses.

“Do too!”

He clearly does not, but it’s also not worth fighting right now. “It’s not the island, anyway; it’s what’s on it.”

He tucks his hands behind his back and leans down just enough to grin upways and sideways at her, the super obnoxious tell of him hiding annoyance. “And, pray tell, what is it on this island that we’ve come to see?”

“Oh, you’ll like it a lot,” she says grinning. “It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“No, you hate having to wait to know things. You love surprises.”

He looks away, helping her haul the cutter into the hidden cove. What he really hates is how well she knows him, but she knows that too.

She battens the ship down while he ties it up, and he stands, stretches, and looks around.

It’s a summer island, nice and temperate, and they’re just off the beaten path; there’s a village on the other side of the hill they’re tucked into, and she leads the way through the forest easily.

They hit the outskirts of the town and Sabo blinks. The architecture here is fascinating; it’s a mix of old-world classicism and neon colors that are just short of eye-searing. It’s ugly as hell and absolutely tasteless, but it’s certainly fascinating.

“Please tell me it’s not the architecture,” he says anyway. “Though I think I’ve seen it before, haven’t I? Mission report….hmm, a few months ago; Team Gamma, I think?”

She slides him a sideways glace and says mildly, “You’d know better than me.”  He’s downplaying his memory; he could recite a whole load of details from any mission report if he needed to and she knows it. Her specialty is analysis, not retention, but his memory is eidetic and terrifying.

None of that is relevant, though, and he paces her through the outskirts and into the town proper. “Is this for work?” he asks, eyes on the locals.

“Don’t you ever turn off?” she asks, and he hums and doesn’t answer, which is fair because it’s not like she does either.

Vacations are not for the likes of them, and his frustration comes out in the corners of his eyes and the twitches of his fingers. His mouth sets and his chin raises a fraction, and she knows he’s not going to answer.

“Have we got time to eat?” he asks instead, eyes on a restaurant on the other side of the square, and she sighs.

It’s not that he’s hungry, even though he probably is; he uses food as a distraction and cover just as often as he means it. Still, she squints up at the sky, over to the harbor, and says, “Yeah, probably. But you’re paying.”

He flutters one hand on his chest like he’s wounded and says, “You drag me all the way here, only to make me pay? That’s rather rude.”

“Shouldn’t the gentleman pay? Isn’t that the way it works?”

“Yeah, it is—but I’m no gentleman.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to agree with me!”

“And you weren’t supposed to be an idiot. Guess we’re both disappointed.”

“Well, I do so hate to disappoint a lady,” he says, holding the door open for her and bowing obnoxiously. “My treat.”

She lifts her chin and sails past him, taking the obsequence as her due instead of his sarcasm. It’s also why she sees them first.

Because there they are, a handful of Whitebeards, and she can’t see the one she’s looking for but he’s clearly there. The pile of dirty dishes and mountain of food prove that just fine.

“Table for two?” the hostess says, already reaching for menus, and Koala waves her off and blows by without stopping.

“We’re joining our party,” she says, making a beeline right for the too-long, too-full table at the back. They’re loud and noisy and it’s easy enough to slide in without anyone noticing. “Hey,” she says to the person she’s sitting next to, all tall and ruffles and wild hair. “Pass me the pitcher?”

The pitcher is handed over by, unless she misses her guess, Commander Haruta, and she grins and pours herself a cup of the shit beer that’s going around. By the time she’s set it back down, Haruta’s clocked that she’s not supposed to be here. “Thanks,” Koala says, cutting her eyes up and grinning.

“You’re welcome,” Haruta says. “And you’re who now?”

“No one important,” she says. “Just a delivery girl.”

“Mmhmm, and what are you delivering?”

“A birthday present,” she says, and makes ta da hands. “I brought you—oh, great. Where’s he gone?”

They both look around, and Haruta says, “You mean the blue guy hyperventilating over in the corner?”

“Yeah,” Koala says, staring at him. “Yeah, that’s him. I can’t believe he’s this dumb. Ugh, hold this for me?” She hands off the beer she hasn’t even tasted yet and gets back up.

“Sure thing,” Haruta says, setting the glass down and getting up to follow her.

Haruta has the decency to hang back and not be obvious about it, so Koala has the decency to ignore the mild stalking. “Hey,” she says instead, making sure her boots click across the floor so he hears her coming. “Hey, you okay?”

“I can’t—” he says, looking up, and there’s something on his face she’s never seen, not through all their missions and years—terror. “He’s—I can’t—”

Oh, shit, was this a bad idea? This may have been a bad idea. “Hey,” she says firmly, because at this point they can’t go home so she may as well go big. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s just gonna punch you a bit, and maybe cry on you, and then you can stop all this—feelings shit.”

“No—I left! I, he—”

“Stop that right now,” she says, grabbing his chin and forcing him upright. She’s not gentle, but she’s breathing deep and even and predictably, and he follows it instinctively. “I may not know him but I sure as shit know you. If he loves you, he’ll forgive you. You owe this to him and yourself, and—and to Luffy.”

It’s a bit of a gamble, but Sabo always works so much harder for others than for himself and he’s more than willing to cut away at his own heart to protect those few he loves. If she can make this about them….

“I owe him,” Sabo repeats, and his eyes are still wild but his shoulders are straightening out. “Yeah, yes, I do; I owe him this. I should…apologize, maybe….”

He doesn’t sound convinced but Koala’s been gathering this intel for years now and she’s pretty sure Ace is going to forgive him whether he apologizes or not. “Okay, great, then go do it,” she says, and manhandles him around to start shoving him towards the table. “Just go, I don’t know, say hi or steal his food or however you make friends.”

“That’s how you make friends,” he says but it’s a hollow attempt at projection and a lie besides.

Haruta’s somehow already back at the table with three fresh beers, watching them approach. Koala ditches Sabo a few steps away and squirms back through the chaos to the seat that’s still mysteriously still free for her. “Thanks,” she says again, leaning over to pick up the glass furthest away and taking a blatant, purposeful sip.

Her eyebrows fly up and she hums. “This is good,” she says, glancing between the glass and the pitcher she'd poured from before. It’s not the same beer.

“You’re welcome,” Haruta says again, face mild but eyes on Sabo. “So, whose birthday is it?”

“His,” she admits; it’s enough days off that she’s comfortable saying so. “But the present’s for us as well; this is gonna be a great show.”

“You brought your own entertainment?”

“Only half of it.”

Haruta doesn’t ask, just hums and takes a drink, and Koala grins, a wide, wild grin she stole right off Sabo’s face. It’s always so fun to talk to someone who plays conversations like games, like puzzles.

They both watch Sabo follow her lead and slide his way into the shifting morass of Commanders and crew until he’s close enough to duck in past Commander Thatch, and he stuttersteps around Marco the Phoenix’s blind spot, pauses behind the mountainous mass of Commander Vista, and fetches up right across from the Commander of the Second Division, Portgas D “Fire Fist” Ace.

“He’s gonna get punched,” Haruta murmurs as Sabo’s eyes flicker on Ace’s motions, and then he takes a deep breath and Koala can almost see him counting off one-two-three-and-- and he reaches out and snags a meatball right off Ace’s moving fork.

“Yeah, probably,” she agrees, resting her chin on one upturned hand and settling in to watch the show.

Ace’s fork has stopped moving, and so has Ace. The stillness radiates out a bit as people notice that the indefatigable appetite of their brother has been put on pause. The only exception is Sabo, popping the meatball into his mouth and chewing.

“Oh shit,” Commander Thatch says quietly, and Sabo swallows, grins, and reaches for Ace’s plate again.

Ace has gone stony-faced and his fork comes back into play, stabbing down towards Sabo’s gloved hand. Sabo grabs for it, catching Ace’s wrist, and Ace drops the fork to twist his hand free, and from there it’s a quick exchange that’s only slightly too well practiced to be a slap-fight.

Sabo lets Ace snatch the fork, makes a swipe for Ace’s beer, and when Ace slaps both hands down on top of it to hold the glass in place, Sabo snags his entire plate.

“You’re dead,” Ace says, hands still on his beer and staring at the victorious-little-shit grin Koala knows far too well.

Sabo picks up another meatball with his fingers, the heathen. “M’not,” he says with his mouth full, and Koala sighs.

Ace rises to his feet, pointing across the table, and hollers, “You’re dead!”

“You’d better run,” Thatch tells Sabo, and Sabo’s grin gets just a bit sharper.

“I’m good,” he says to Thatch without looking away from Ace. “And not dead.”

Thatch thinks it’s a threat, Koala realizes, and looks around to where several crew members have hands on weapons and everyone is on edge.

Ace’s hands curl into fists. “I saw you die!”

Sabo hums, nods, and says, “If you couldn’t kill me, what makes you think a little bit of fire could?”

“You blew up!” Ace yells at him, and Sabo snorts and waves this off as irrelevant.

Koala leaves her partner to his idiocy and nudges Haruta in the ribs. “Hey,” she says, and pulls out the folder she’s been careful not to bend. “Wanna see something secret and embarrassing?”

Haruta leans in, grinning, and says, “I like you, delivery girl. Show me.”

Koala flips open the folder, takes out the picture, and slides it over.

The sound Haruta makes is high and excited and quickly stifled. “Oh my god, is this baby Ace?”

And just like that, all the attention is on them, even Ace and Sabo’s. “Oh,” Sabo says quietly, staring at her with wide eyes. “Oh no.”

“It is,” she says with great pleasure. “Look at the three of them. Isn’t it precious?”

“What the shit is that,” Ace says, and at Sabo’s quiet, despairing sigh, Ace’s eyes cut to him.

“Remember that time Gramps brought us matching outfits?”

“Oh,” Ace says, sitting down hard and staring at her with wide eyes. “Oh no.”

“Look at the hats,” Haruta coos. “Look at that smile.”

“Hi,” Thatch says across the table from her, and she looks up to find a hand outthrust. “I’m Thatch.”

“I’m charmed,” she says, and gives him her hand and a sparkling smile.

“You’re charming ,” he corrects, and bows over her hand quickly but perfectly, no kiss or complement or anything. “Where did you get Ace’s baby pictures? And do you have more?”

She raises the folder and is instantly the most popular person at the table.

“What,” Ace says from the other side of the mob of Commanders, and Sabo sighs.

“That’s Koala,” he says. “She’s here to ruin our lives.”

“And this one,” Koala says, louder than necessary, “is from when they tried to make a cake for the first time.”

“Okay, nope, that’s--nope, we’re done,” Ace says, and elbows his way through the crowd. He reaches for the folder and Koala takes a step back as Haruta slides in between them.

“Koala is my new best friend,” Haruta says cheerfully. It’s extremely threatening.

“Weren’t you going to take Sabo outside and punch him a bit?” Koala asks, flipping through the folder for her personal favorite. “Look, Makino caught them sleeping--”

There is a chorus of aws and Sabo turns to Ace. “C’mon,” he says. “We’re going outside so you can punch me in the face. It’s gotta be less painful than this.”

“Is it okay to leave her here--?”

“The only thing she’ll do is ruin your dignity, and it’s not like you had any to start with--hey, ow!”

“Bye, boys!” Koala calls, waving as Ace drags Sabo outside by the coat. “Have fun!”

“We’re keeping you,” Thatch says. “I’m so glad you exist. Tell me everything.”

“Only if you share in exchange.”

“Of course,” Thatch says. “It would be our--”

“Hang on, now; let’s not be hasty,” Haruta says, elbowing Thatch to one side. “Tell me, delivery girl, are you here for work or for family?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” she wonders aloud, which is in no way an answer.

Haruta is watching her with narrow eyes, so she smiles and says, “Our brothers are apparently brothers. That makes us family, in an extended kind of way.”

“You are my favorite little sister,” Thatch immediately claims, sliding back in front of Haruta. “I will tell you all the stories of Ace being dumb if you tell us more about your guy.”

“Deal,” Koala says, and sticks out her hand to shake on it. “It’s important for family to stick together.”

There’s a whump and a crash and a bang-bang-BANG from outside, and they all look that way. “Speaking of,” Marco says wryly. “I’ll be right back.”

“So, hey,” Koala says, reminded. “D’you know they have a little brother?”

“Luffy, right?” Haruta says. “Strawhat?”

“That’s the one,” she agrees. “He’s passing by a few islands away. Mind if I borrow your boy for a bit?”

“I have learned more about Ace in the past ten minutes than in the past year,” Thatch tells her frankly. “I am absolutely tagging along.”

“Same,” Haruta says. “A short vacation would do me good. Hey, maybe we’ll just detour the Moby Dick. I bet Pops would love to meet an up-and-comer like the Strawhats.”

“You can’t just drop our entire crew on an unsuspecting newbie,” Thatch protests.

“You absolutely can,” Koala says. “Luffy put up with those two for years,” and she tilts her head towards the front of the restaurant. The light coming in the window has been moving oddly for the past little bit, which is a pretty good indication that something large and nearby is on fire.

Thatch makes a thinking face, then nods. “Yeah, okay, fair. Anyone who can grow up with Ace can deal with our crew.”

“Is this a good idea?” Haruta wonders out loud, not addressing the comment to anyone in particular but turning expectant eyes Koala’s way.

She throws back her head and laughs. “Probably not,” she says, and grins. “But it’ll make my family happy, so I’m gonna do it anyway.”

Chapter Text

Haruta squints into the wind and leans over the rail. It does not make the Moby Dick sail faster, but it makes Haruta feel better about the wait, which is kind of the same thing.

There’s a dot in the distance, just on the horizon. The sun’s going down, but it’s not dark enough to hide in, not yet. Still, the Moby Dick is very big and very noticeable.

“There they are,” Haruta says, and tumbles out of the crow’s nest into the rat lines, scrambling down them with ease but no grace. “Ship sighted!”

“Finally,” Ace says. “Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Not that long,” Sabo says, and then hisses. “Koala, did you just step on—”

“We,” she says, all sweetness and joy, “are being polite, Sabo. We are guests, and we smile and agree with our hosts, don’t we?”

“Ace isn’t our host—” Sabo says at the same time as Ace starts protesting, “Sabo’s not a guest—”

“I thought we were some kind of family,” Haruta butts in. “Family are never guests.”

“See?” Sabo hisses, and Koala smiles at him so sweetly that he takes a wary step back. “But…maybe we should be polite anyway.”

“Nah, don’t bother,” Ace says. “I never did.”

“You started with murder,” Haruta reminds him. “No one was expecting politeness from you.”

“I can be polite though! When I want to be!”

“Sure,” Haruta says, squinting back at the ship. “You just don’t ever want to be.”

“Hey! I—”

“Shh! Something’s happening!”

The little ship finally lights up, all activity and noise and actual lights, and there’s a lot of shouting which is a lot more like it. Honestly, in Haruta’s opinion, they should have seen the Moby coming much earlier, but not everyone is paranoid and hypervigilant, so, y’know, whatever.

Then there’s a lull in noise, and then something launches off the deck and the screams resume.

On Ace’s other side, Sabo sighs and tugs his hat brim down. “I hate him,” he says, all fake-mournful and long-suffering.

Ace huffs and shoulderchecks Sabo out of the way, then moves back, takes two running steps, and launches himself up off the railing. He catches good air and manages to snag the projectile right out of the air in a move that’s as graceful as it is practiced.

He lands hard on the deck, slamming back into a deep crouch, shaking a boy by the back of his red jacket. “Luffy,” he says, standing up.

“Ace!”

“Luffy, what have we told you about launching yourself over water?”

Apparently-Luffy folds his arms and pouts like it’s a competition. “Not to unless there’s someone to catch me.” Then he smiles like the sun coming up and says, “But there was! You caught me!”

Ace stares at him, then sighs. “You didn’t know—you know what? Never mind. Hey, Luff. How’ve ya been?”

“Ace!” Luffy says again, and proceeds to wrap his arms and legs around Ace in a full body hug, which is all the more impressive because Ace is still holding his body away at arms’ length.

Ace grins and lets go of Luffy’s shirt, and Luffy shoots forward, arms acting like rubber bands, and the momentum knocks both of them over. Luffy laughs the whole way down.

“This must be Luffy,” Thatch says, crouching next to them, and Ace levels himself up and shoves at Luffy til he slides back to the deck. “This is my little brother!” Ace says, and noogies Luffy’s head through the hat. “He’s a lot of trouble—”

“Hey!”

“—but he’s gonna be the Pirate King one day.”

“Are you?” Thatch asks Luffy, and Luffy beams.

“Yeah!”

“Well, then, nice to meet you,” Thatch says, holding out his hand, and Luffy shakes it vigorously. “I’m Thatch.”

“Your hair is weird,” Luffy tells him.

“Luffy, Thatch is the head chef for the Whitebeards,” Ace says, bopping his head, then standing and hauling Luffy upright as well. “Be polite!”

“Right! Nice to meet you, Mister Hair Cook!”

Thatch’s face goes through several expressions in a very short period of time, and then he sighs, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, okay, been called worse. Welcome aboard, kid.”

Haruta sidles up to Koala, who took Ace’s place, leaning against the rail next to Sabo with crossed arms and a small smile. “I don’t see the resemblance,” Haruta says.

“It’s the idiocy,” Sabo says, and then wheezes.

Koala retracts her elbow from his stomach and smiles prettily at Haruta. “It’s the stubborn determinator attitude and inability to process the world ‘impossible’,” she corrects. “It’s either genetic or contagious.”

“Luffy!” someone screams, and the entire ship Luffy came from straight up leaps out of the water and flies right at them, landing with a massive splash and boom right next to them. It washes up a wave so big it swamps the deck, and when it passes, Sabo’s gone.

“What,” Haruta says, staring at the ship. “That just—did that ship just fly?”

Koala’s staring too. “Inability to process the word ‘impossible’,” she repeats, just as blankly.

“—swear by the Blues, Luffy, your crew is just as mad as you are,” Sabo is saying from behind them, and Haruta turns sideways to keep an eye on the ship while also watching the show. “What if we hadn’t been here, huh? You coulda been washed into the ocean! What’s the rule on going in the ocean, Luffy?!”

“Not to do it if I can’t swim.”

“Can you swim, then?” Sabo’s standing over the two, hands on his hips as he stares down at Luffy.

“No, but—”

“No buts!”

“But Sabooooo—” Luffy whines, still sitting in the puddle of seawater.

“Hey, what about me?” Ace says, grinning up at Sabo.

“Shut up, Ace, you at least know better—”

Luffy jerks in place and his head whips around—just the normal amount, though. “Wait, Sabo?”

“—could have gotten sick, Luffy, you—”

“Sabo! Look, Ace! Ace, look! Is it—” Luffy isn’t turning his head away from Sabo but he’s reaching out for Ace, so he ends up kind of punching him and smearing his hand across Ace’s entire face.

“Yeah,” Ace says, letting himself get drawn in and patting Luffy on the back. “Brought you a present, Lu.”

“It’s me, I’m the present—” Sabo says, and then catches Luffy with his stomach, toppling over onto the wet deck as well. “Oof! Yeah, yeah. Missed you too, little bro.”

There’s a thud and hiss, and suddenly the deck is filling with smoke. It’s thick and reeks, and Haruta immediately scrambles for the rat lines and gets up above it. There’s a hot thwump and heavy, repeated gusts of wind as Marco uses his wings to clear the deck.

There’s a green-haired guy with three swords and a blond guy in a suit back-to-back in the middle of the deck where the smoke is clearing, and the blond guy goes straight for Luffy. His eyes catch on Ace, and he stops, sighs, and his entire frame goes from battle-ready to exasperated . “Never mind!” he calls across the deck. “It’s just Ace!”

“Yo,” Ace says, still sitting on the floor. Blond guy sighs again and waves a hand. There’s suddenly a cigarette in it, and he holds it out towards Ace, who grins and lights it up.

The green-haired swordsman sheathes his blades. “Captain,” he says, half acknowledgement and half blame.

“Zoro! Sanji!” Luffy looks up, then back down at the blond he’s sitting on. “Look, it’s Sabo!”

Haruta cautiously resheathes one sword and two knives and crouches in the rigging, watching as a handful of people come spilling over from the flying ship. Every single one of them is wearing the same expression, the one Haruta recognizes from Marco’s face as our-brother-did-what-now?

That, more than anything, settles the last of the paranoia, and Haruta grins and descends, sliding into place beside Koala like nothing’d ever happened at all.

“The Strawhats,” Haruta says, and Koala hums.

“If Luffy is anything like his brothers, his crew must be loyal and terrifying,” she says, and Haruta files that tidbit right away with everything else she’s let slip about herself and Sabo.

A girl with orange hair and a staff that’s sparking in a very concerning way heads straight for Luffy and bops him on the head. “Don’t launch yourself like that, idiot! You can’t swim!”

“I like her,” Koala says immediately. “Hey, you! New girl!”

“What?” she says, spinning on a heel and glaring at them.

Koala grins winningly and holds up a familiar folder. “I have embarrassing baby pictures of those three.”

The woman blinks once, then a grin blooms on her face, wide and wicked. “Excellent. I’m Nami.”

“Haruta. Nice to meet you.”

“Koala. I’m to Sabo what you are to Luffy.”

They share one extremely meaningful look, and then an arm just straight up grows out of Koala’s shoulder and grabs the folder. Koala startles but is in control again in under a second. “Ah, and you must be Robin.”

“Must I?” a woman asks, melting out of the shadows beside them and smiling serenely. “Well, if I must.”

“I wanna see that too,” Nami says, leaning in over Robin’s shoulder. “Oh, wow. What are they wearing?”

“Is he a brother too?” Robin asks, and Koala grins at her.

“That’s Sabo,” she says. “They all grew up together.”

Nami shudders delicately. “Is he more like Ace or Luffy?”

“He’s his own kind of crazy,” Haruta jumps in. “Seems better at hiding it, but worse in general.”

Nami sighs and exchanges a glance with Robin. “Right,” she says, then looks over her shoulder at the yelling mess of boys fighting on the deck. “Guess I’m gonna go meet him, then. Any brother of Luffy’s is nakama too.”

“Good luck!” Koala calls after her, then turns her attention back to Robin and her folder. “You’re Nico Robin, right? The historian?”

“I prefer archaeologist,” Robin says. “Oh, look! Captain’s getting eaten by tigers!”

“Isn’t it cute?!”

Haruta leans in over their shoulders to see as well, and somewhere beside them Thatch cries out “Wait, stop--!”

A small frothing ball of yelling goes right over the side of the ship, followed by several more splashes.

“Should we-?” Koala wonders.

“Nah, s’fine; the crew’s used to it,” Haruta says. Robin hands over the file and Haruta shuffles to the next picture. “Why’s Shanks here?”

Robin crosses her arms, closes her eyes, and smiles, and from somewhere overboard several someones scream.

“It’s fine; just grab the arms!” the blond guy in the suit yells, and over the yelling and splashes and all of it is the sound of Luffy’s laughter.

“I don’t know why I missed any of you,” Sabo says, angrily and loudly as he stalks past, completely soaked and looking more like a drowned kitten than a fearsome spy.

“We missed you too!” Ace calls back, and then Luffy launches himself at them again. 

Haruta crowds Koala and Robin to the side enough that they don’t get wet when Luffy lands on his brothers, and the three of them go tumbling again with a yelp.

“It’s nice to hear him laughing,” Koala says, smiling. She probably means Sabo, but there’s a lot of laughter ringing out, including Ace’s.

“Yeah,” Haruta says and grins back. “Yeah, it really is.”