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There were very few times when Izo didn’t take his sweet time getting ready in the morning– pinning up his hair, applying makeup, and making sure he’d chosen the proper kimono for the day based on the projected waters they’d be sailing through–but from the moment he woke up and felt the sun already streaming in and offending his poor eyes, he knew this would be one of them.
It wasn’t that he hated summer weather, quite the contrary. It was nice when enjoyed from a shady spot on deck with a cup of tea, or indoors looking out at calm waters. He just wasn’t accustomed to them. Winter weather was always his favorite, as it reminded him of the good years of his childhood back in Wano; Vista often liked to joke that he was like a husky, since he couldn’t ever be dragged back indoors when there was snow outside.
He wondered what a husky was, exactly. He still needed to ask.
Compared to winter, summer felt like an unrelenting, angry presence that followed him around outdoors. He often burnt to a crisp after just a few minutes in direct sunlight, and he always felt the need to shower in the middle of the day. He just hated sweating so much!
But, as much as he hated feeling sweaty and burnt, he never went back on a promise. And every other Saturday was promised to Vista for gardening.
With a low groan he finally peeled himself off of the pink silk sheets below him, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. The tattooed skin there was already covered in a thin layer of sweat; the day had barely started and he was already in need of a shower. Another soft groan fell from his lips and he climbed out of bed, pushing away the large assortment of pillows that surrounded him, making his way over to his wardrobe in search of something light to wear.
Pulling out a pair of shorts and a pink tank top, he started to think about his plans for the afternoon, making a list in his mind of what he needed to do. Watering and pruning the plants, of course, and updating them on everything he’d been up to lately. They always seemed to grow better when he spoke to them. Once he’d gathered his clothes he made his way over to his vanity, setting them down for a moment and lowering himself into the plush chair he’d borrowed from Marco when he first joined. Sure, he would give it back eventually. Just not now.
Staring at his reflection he gave himself a pout, gently rubbing his puffed out cheeks before beginning to undo the tight braid he always wore to bed. The few times he’d forgotten to tie it back before sleeping had resulted in knots so thick he refused to even leave his bedroom for the majority of the day– if he wasn’t looking his absolute best no one was laying an eye on him.
Except for maybe one or two very special commanders.
Giving himself enough time to brush his hair out fully and pull it back into a looser, less intricate braid than before, he pulled on his tank top and bright pink shorts before taking a glance in the mirror to be sure it both fit well and looked good enough. Izo completed his look with a pair of rounded sunglasses and a large hat, hoping the brim was wide enough around to shade the majority of his body and prevent any burns. Last time they were in summer weather he had a sunburn for a week! He really couldn’t afford another burn, they were just so bad for his skin.
He collected his usual gardening tools, tossing in his fan and a new bottle of sunscreen just in case, before picking up his thermos and heading for the door. The fourth division generally preferred that the crew members stayed for meals, but as a commander, Izo could usually get them to make a box of whatever breakfast was being served, as well as getting someone to fill his thermos. If he was lucky, Thatch would be available to do it for him, and he would get an overstuffed box of his favorites and a perfectly chilled and sweetened green tea to take along to the garden with him.
This morning, he was ever so lucky. The man was waiting for him with his usual smile, happily waving him off from his spot behind the grill. He truly loved his position and everyone could tell; it showed not only through his positive attitude, but the genuine love he showed for those in his division and the care he put into everything he cooked. The crew couldn’t ask for a better head chef.
Armed with his gardening supplies and his carefully packed meal, he made his way out of the main part of the ship and towards the grassy lawn located towards the bow of the Moby. He could hear Vista before he could see him, cracking a small smile despite the way he was already starting to melt in the sun. According to him, singing to his roses made them happier, and flowers always grew better when they were happy. Izo couldn’t exactly disagree; Vista’s roses were some of the most beautiful blooms he’d ever seen.
He’d taken his advice when he first started gardening, finding comfort in talking to his own chrysanthemum bushes by treating them as if he was talking to his own sister. His heart ached for her and he often wondered what she was up to; if she was safe, if she was eating, if she was growing well. Oftentimes if there was something he desperately wanted to tell her, he would tell his flowers.
Nothing would ever replace her, but it seemed to help.
He approached the gardening area with a smile, stopping a few feet away from the man to listen to him sing. He had a deep tenor that sounded like smooth chocolate or a rich red wine; it was very pleasant and easy to listen to and Izo appreciated it very much. He waited until he finished off his song before finally clearing his throat, alerting him of his presence.
“Ah, Izo! Good morning!” Vista sat up straight and flashed the man a smile, removing his gardening gloves and setting them down beside the wooden frame of the flower bed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, letting out a soft sigh as he looked him up and down, noting the wide brimmed hat casting a shadow across most of his body. “Protecting yourself from a week of burns, I see!”
A gentle laugh fell from Izo’s lips and he knelt down beside him, setting his gardening tools on the ground. “Not all of us can be as lucky as you, Vista. I applied as much sunscreen as I could before I left my room.” He sighed, looking up towards the sky and pushing the brim of his hat up so he could see better. “Not a cloud in the sky today, huh?”
The other man shook his head, focusing his attention on his plants once again. Reaching out slowly, he cupped one of his roses in his palm and ran his thumb across a loose petal. “Nope, and these little guys were parched when I got out here. Wonder how much longer we’ll be in this heat.” He carefully pulled the dead petal off the bud, dropping it into a nearby pile.
“Hopefully not long…” Izo turned slightly, looking to his chrysanthemums with a gentle smile. “Good morning, imouto…” His smile grew a bit at the use of the same endearing term he’d use for Kiku used for his flowers now and he leaned in, sniffing softly at the largest bloom. Most of them were yellow, with a few pink blossoms sprinkled in between, along with the starter rose bushes that Vista had offered to him when he first expressed interest in gardening all those years ago.
He turned, picking up his watering can and beginning his routine of care for them all. Watering, pruning the dead leaves, plucking weeds and being sure to check for any bugs or birds that had decided to come picking around. The two of them had originally put up a scarecrow to deter any sea birds from attempting to disturb their flowers or the nearby vegetable garden, but to their surprise it had to be removed after just a week because as much as he tried to deny it, Marco had been genuinely scared of the creation. He had done everything possible to avoid going anywhere near the garden, and it wasn’t until the scarecrow had been fully destroyed that he finally ventured out again, looking vaguely smug, as if he’d defeated a ferocious beast.
The two men fell into a casual silence, each working on their own plants with practiced ease. Izo loved the rhythm he created while working, loved the feeling of taking care of something once again. He’d spent most of his childhood caring for his younger sister, and once he found himself without her, he longed for the feeling of caring for something again. Ace and Haruta never really minded the extra pampering when he got in those moods, but sometimes when he just wasn’t able to interact with others, the plants were enough.
Another few minutes had passed before the silence was broken with a sudden scream, and Izo was so startled he accidentally threw his spade a few feet away. Any further and it might have gone overboard!
“What in the world was that?!” He turned, looking to Vista, his brown eyes blown wide. Was there an attack? Had he gotten hurt? Was Ace trying to kill someone again? “Vista, what’s the matter?”
The man could barely even respond, simply pointing to one of his larger roses. It was bowing low, obviously being weighed down by something—or someone—on one of the leaves.
Izo let out a sigh and crawled over, lowering his sunglasses down further on the bridge of his nose so he could take a look. There, sitting on the rose was a very large, very plump looking caterpillar. It was bright orange and covered in white and purple stripes. It sure reminded him of someone.
“Oh, Vista…” He chuckled softly, holding a finger out to the creature and allowing it to crawl onto him instead of the flower. He brought his hand up, taking a closer look at the bug as it inched its way up his hand. “He’s just a friendly little guy.”
“Bugs are invasive , Izo! He could eat up my roses without a second thought!” Vista smoothed out the front of his shirt, trying to act as if he wasn’t as bothered by the creature as he was. It didn’t work. “Besides, he’s freaky looking. Unnatural colors and all that.”
Izo rolled his eyes, balancing the caterpillar carefully on his hand and reaching for his gardening supplies with the other. He kept a few jars and containers handy for such situations; any bugs or small creatures he found in the gardens were given to Haruta to be cared for until they reached an island where they could be safely released. He set the bug down in the jar before adding a few twigs and leaves, screwing on the lid once again. It had plenty of holes, of course, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to the little guy.
“Have some compassion, Vista.” Izo held the jar up, looking at the caterpillar with a bittersweet smile. “He’s all alone, and far from home. He doesn’t know where he is or anyone around… No friends or anything familiar.” He looked over to the man, eyes half lidded now. “I think we can all relate to that just a little, don’t you think?”
At his words, Vista seemed to deflate a bit, his cheeks beginning to redden. He glanced down at his roses, noting that only one or two of the leaves even had bites taken out of them—nothing he couldn't take care of. He let out a sigh, nodding and leaning back a bit. Of course Izo was right.
Izo was always right.
“I think that’s a good place to take a break, don’t you?” He set the jar down nearby, removing his gardening gloves and silently weeping at the tan lines that were already beginning to form on his pale wrists. It just wasn’t fair, why couldn’t he just tan well like Jozu or Blenheim? It made his heart hurt. “You brought some food, I assume?” He looked over at Vista, smiling softly.
“Yes, Thatch gave me a box today!” The man held up a black lunch box decorated with rose petals and a large number 5, breaking into a bright grin. As corny as it sounded, most of the commanders appreciated having items like lunchboxes be personalized. Izo himself had one that was a pale pink color, decorated with a large dancing fan and two crossed guns below it. Haruta had made it for him one day when he was feeling rather homesick, and he’d treasured it ever since.
“What did you get?” Vista scooted a bit closer to him, popping open his box and taking a look inside his own. “I got an omelette again, I think he knows I like them a lot.” He poked at it, taking a look at what was included. Cheese, fresh peppers, and tomatoes! “He gave me some sausages too, and a fruit cup. Looks great! And it stayed nice and warm out here in the sun.”
Izo peeked into the other man’s box and nodded before opening his own, breaking into a wide smile. It was like Thatch could sense that he was homesick before he even said it. “Steamed rice and salmon for me today. Some scrambled eggs on the side.” He’d even put sauce on them in the shape of a smiley face.
He picked up his chopsticks, breaking up the salmon before popping a small bite in his mouth. He was always amazed that Thatch knew exactly how everyone on the crew enjoyed their food; no two people liked the same foods or, even when they did, they often liked it prepared in different ways. Surely he had a cookbook somewhere with all the information, it wasn’t like he could keep it stored in his pompadour or anything.
Or...could he?
He shook his head slowly, poking at his eggs now. “Can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since I left home. Still feels like yesterday…” He sighed, leaning a bit heavier against Vista’s side as he took another bite.
“It does.” Vista gave a nod in response, chewing happily on a particularly juicy piece of pineapple. “I know it was hard for you to leave, but the crew wouldn’t be the same without you!” He grinned widely, looking back down to Izo. He raised an eyebrow then, reaching out and poking his arm.
“Are you burning already?” He asked, suppressing another laugh. Oh, the poor man. “Dear lord, Izo.”
“Well,” Izo let out a soft sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “I always did say pink is my color. Might as well embrace it.”