Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It sits on her tongue, in the back of her throat. Like communion wafers, like words that can’t be said aloud, like seeing someone you used to know but no longer. Tashigi takes a deep breath, ash and salt, metal, wood and paper whooshing into her lungs. Into the sky. 

Their ship is sinking. Drowning under cannonfire from former allies. Former friends. Former comrades. Her men are dashing to the lifeboats, but who would come to rescue them? The sea of the Grand Line would swallow them up, swamp them under waves larger than skyscrapers, or doom them to be annihilated by monsters from the deep. 

But still they went for the boats. An ensign was yanking on her arm, trying to pull her towards the silly little rafts. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, his lips flapping uselessly. Just the sound of wailing. Was it her? Was it the soul of their warship? 

A blinding white, snuffing out flames that only came back stronger crashed into the corner of her vision. Then amber eyes were meeting hers. The light that normally sat deep inside them was sad. That anger that always sat there, that drive, that life… His gloved hand was on her shoulder for a moment that seemed to last eternity. Then she was airborne, her superior officer disappearing as she fell over the railing, her body slamming into hands grabbing and pulling-

With a start, Tashigi blinked and the bonfire in the middle of the camp came back to her. The bowl of food in her hands was warm, though the food itself was just reconstituted rations. The tents and makeshift barracks sat around them, men and women of all shapes and sizes talking and exchanging news. 

She shivered though it wasn’t cold. This camp on an island South of Baltigo was in the full swing of summer, an ocean breeze rolling in off the coast. She took in one breath, then another. The sounds of feet tapping on the sand, spoons scraping bowls, the squeaks of sandpipers. “Did you read the news this morning? Blackbeard nabbed another couple big devil fruit users,” her eyes slid to the group of soldiers off to her left. The red patch on their uniforms seemed too vivid in her eyes.

“Yeah, saw that, and there’s been Pacifistas deployed to Sabaody…won’t be long before we see some action,” one of the soldiers crossed their arms as his friends nodded their assent. Good. Her fingers curled around Shigure’s hilt. Her katana was calling for blood and Tashigi would oblige. 

Better than reliving that horrible moment over and over. The feeling of his fingers on her cheek, a hundred thousand million things never said. She should have gone down with him, closed that gap between them, sunk into the depths of the sea together–

“Oi Autumn Rain!” Tashigi looked up, startled as Lieutenant Tealc, a Gazelle mink, called to her from the Commander’s tent. His nose was red and runny, as usual. Allergies he says, but never to what. He gestured for her to follow him into the tent. She got up, food forgotten. The Revolutionaries had need of her.

Messengers scurry in and out of the other entrance to the tent, papers scattered on tables equally scattered throughout the space, snails sit lined up or stacked, puru puruing with news from all over. Her commanding officer, a woman with a bushy mustache named Amande (not to be confused with one of the Big Mom Pirates huehuehue! she always said to everyone she met) was writing furiously with both hands on two different reports, then handing them off to runners. A single curved horn poked out from underneath her red beret. 

“You summoned me Ma’am?” Tashigi nearly saluted, her arm making it halfway up before she dropped it uselessly next to her side. Old habits die hard. Amande looked up and tossed a crushed up ball of paper to Tealc, who proceeded to eat it. 

“Got a mission for ya Autumn Rain,” she grinned, her mustache thinning to deadly sharp points, twitching on either side of her face. A piece of paper is slid across the desk towards her. She picks it up. A wanted poster. A man with a hefty chin smirks at her from under his cap.

Ex-Navy, just like her. But a bastard, unlike her. Well… maybe not so much anymore. Tashigi shoves that thought away.

“Think you can take out Shiryu of the Rain for us?”

Tashigi looked up, Shigure humming on her hip. “Yes,” she says. 

Amande’s mustache curves upward with her smile. “Then godspeed, good luck, and viva la revolucion.”

Chapter Text

“Here’s the forms for requisitioning cannonfire repairs.” A folder was placed on the corner of his desk. He grunted an acknowledgement, focusing on his current briefing. Damn Supernovas in the New World going wild. Would only be a matter of time until Mugiwara reappeared to really spice things up.

“And here’s the briefing on the Reverie that will be happening in a few months.” Another folder onto his desk. God he hoped they wouldn’t have escort duty for a bunch of nobles. He had better shit to do.

“The roster list that Vice Admiral Vergo wants for our next patrol.” More papers on the pile. He looked up from his briefing to give Tashigi a look, only to grimace at the stack she was holding. “Sorry Sir,” she gave him an apologetic look before adding more onto his desk. 

“Transferred here to take out pirates, not to be buried under paperwork,” he grunted. He’d sort out the actually important crap later and dump the rest in the trash. 

“Yeah…the weather looks nice for a spar too,” Tashigi glanced out his office window at the open sky, a seagull flying by. 

“Good idea,” he said, sweeping his hand towards the folders conveniently placed to fall into the trashcan below his desk. Tashigi’s smaller hand slapped down with metric tons of force. 

“We have to do those Sir,” she puffed out her cheeks, staring him down through glasses precariously balanced on her nose. He drummed his fingers on the pile, staring back. She wasn’t going to give an inch. The New World had certainly given her a backbone, making her nearly as straight edged as Hina when it came to paperwork of all things. 

“We? Your signature isn’t the one they want,” he grunted. 

“I know, but I’ll separate out all the stuff you don’t need Sir,” she smiled at him and he rolled his eyes, taking his hand off the folders. Tashigi pulled out the chair in front of his desk, and promptly spilled all the remaining papers she was holding across his desk. He closed his eyes and shook his head. She stuttered an apology and began gathering them all back up only to drop her glasses in the process.

With a sigh, he picked them up and held them out to her. Their fingers brushed when she took them from his hand, giving him a sheepish smile before her eyes widened, and the smell of burning wood clogged his throat. 

Her glasses were cracked, a bruise on her cheek, the lifeboats splashing into the ocean. She could say she was just following orders, that might protect her if she lived. She had to live. Her life was too high a price to pay for his decision. 

His hand on her shoulder, her brown eyes going wide, mouth opening in shock as he threw her over the railing. A cannonball slamming into the burning deck behind him-

“Come get your gourmet kibble!” a voice cackled. Smoker cracked his eye open from the corner of his cage. Slop was dumped into the tray by the door. The sun streamed down, hot already. Just like yesterday, and the day before. And the day before that. The fucking pirate smiled down at him, waiting to watch him eat and taunt him. His one meal of the day in this hellhole. 

“Heard you might be coming up the roster, I’ll miss you Vice Admiral,” the shitty rat bastard grinned at him as he approached. He said that often. No narrative tension, no extra details. Still, the grain of truth to it unsettled Smoker. If it was his day to be picked… then he had to keep up his strength. That would be his one chance to escape, or die trying. 

He ignored the bastard as much as he could, using his hands to scrape the foul tasting rice and potatoes puree into his mouth, the overflow getting stuck in his beard. “Captain Blackbeard will be bringing in a few more prizes, buddy boy. I’ll make sure to room you with the pick of the bunch, how’s that sound?” Smoker glanced up from his “food” at the idiot underling, his hide weathered by the sun, teeth missing, nose crooked under a stupid hat and red and yellow striped shirt. 

Sharing his cage, eight paces across and 6 paces from front to back was not ideal. None of this was ideal. If he had known he would survive the Buster Call on his ship, he would have played things differently. 

If he had known that the Navy would then sell him to the Blackbeard Pirates after, he would have made sure to drown.

“See ya later Vice Admiral,” the pirate, Shithead No.1, smirked and walked away. The other captive devil fruit users lay about in their cages, too tired to do anything else. Smoker ran a hand over the seastone around his neck and narrowed his eyes before settling back into his corner, returning to thoughts of better times.

Chapter Text

The small port of Hana Island is overflowing. Skiffs, rowboats, ferries, proper ships, and of course, her own– the Ghost– are all crowded together. The flower filled ocean waves splash against their hulls as families and townspeople from all over crowd the pier. 

Tashigi sits in the Crow’s Nest of her ship, the sounds from below muffled to a hum. The sun had set some time ago and she could smell the heightened excitement in the air. This little island had been known for one thing, and one thing only– their annual summer Star Festival, until the War began in earnest. 

Then it found itself as a refuge and information hub. But tonight, it was a place for other people to cut loose. To celebrate, to feel normal in a world undergoing immense change. She hadn’t known the festival was happening until they’d arrived three days prior, but it didn’t hamper her plans. 

Tashigi set about sharpening Shigure, whetstone and oil by her cross legged feet. The air in her quarters was too stale, the stench of sweat, fish, and potpourri from the previous Captain still ingrained in the wooden walls. She supposed the festival was a good thing, her men could use the break before their coming hunt. 

She opened the bottle of oil, pouring some onto the whetstone. The moon high above glinted off her blade, enough light to see by without lighting a lantern. She knew this process by heart anyway, preferred using her other senses instead to give Shigure her perfectly honed edge. 

For three days, Tashigi had sat hunched in gross bars, around rank and sticky poker tables. Settled herself amongst the flood of men and women, pirates and merchants, brokers and arms dealers that now coated Hana Island’s streets. 

And this time, not one of her men objected, arguing that she would stick out like a sore thumb. Before…this had always been his job, his expertise. He could sit in a gambling rings and smoke for hours, no one batting an eye. He could blend in. 

But that wasn’t his job anymore. A tightness squeezed around Tashigi’s throat, a dead weight in her gut. Now… Tashigi inhaled, long and deep. Closing her eyes. Shigure twinged on her lap, the wind rustled the furled sails. Ships creaked and the ocean rumbled. Laughter of children down below drifted upward. She reopened her eyes. 

The information she wanted hadn’t been easy to obtain. The RA’s contacts only had so much to give her, their own informants sketchy and distrustful. War was like that, but well, Tashigi had her ways. And the bruises on her knuckles to prove it. Not built to be a bruiser but the role was beginning to fit her. 

She angled herself properly to slide the blade back and forth over the stone, the repeating motion balancing her thoughts. Hachinosu was well known to be Blackbeard’s base of operations in the New World. It was there she would find her target. Back and forth, don’t press against the blade too hard. 

But because everyone knew that, information on his actual operations and the movements of his commanders was much harder to dig out. This was where she excelled. Digging into those silly little details… all her efforts to be neat and orderly, to make things clear, paying off. He’d always rolled his eyes but never tried to stop her from fussing. 

She pressed a little too hard and had to ease back, clenching her teeth. 

Hachinosu was surrounded by tiny little islands, dinky little outposts. Defensible, and innocuous looking. Unassuming. Perfect places to conduct real, proper, pirate business. The crowd down below was getting larger. Her haki flexed outward. Children holding paper lanterns, women carefully writing their heart’s desires in beautiful kanji. 

The small bamboo tree in the plaza of the laboratory was covered in bits of paper of all different sizes and colors. She reached out to turn one over gently in her fingers. A wish was written in comically large letters. “To grow up and be strong like Mr. Smoker but a pirate!”

Shigure scraped along the whetstone in a jagged line. Her haki snapped back in, the reverberations of the actions of civilians down below splattering over her senses like a popped balloon. 

The moon shone down ethereally on a figure on one of the benches that ringed the plaza. His hair glowed, matching the bandages still wrapped around his torso. Fewer than there had been though. Tashigi sat down gently next to him, cigar smoke greeting her by drifting upward in a little cloud. “The children seemed to enjoy the festival, don’t you think? I hope their wishes come true…” 

“Wishes don’t happen if you don’t put in the work to see it through,” he grunted. She made a noncommittal noise and almost rolled her eyes. But she’d seen him place his own wish on the tree. Just like her.

“Hmm… what did you wish for Smoker-san?” she smiled at him. 

His eyes flicked over, meeting her own. “Can’t say or it won’t happen.”

Shigure dropped from her hands like she’d been struck, a yawning hole opening up inside her. The look on his face as he pushed her, disappearing in the cannonfire, sinking sinking sink-

Lanterns were being released all around her, drifting up into the sky. Now she’d never know, because he was gone gone GONE and-

Tashigi clenched her hands into fists, tucking her arms around herself, trying to breathe. It would pass, the pain would pass. It had to. She had a job to do! Her eyes burned, throat tight, holding the sob in. The RA needed her, and as long as they opposed her enemies, she would do whatever they asked of her!

Back straight soldier, inhale.

Tashigi opened her eyes and wrapped her fingers around Shigure’s hilt to resume her sharpening.

On a tiny island off the coast of Hachinosu, Shiryu of the Rain was waiting for her blade.

Chapter Text

Rain dripped down the back of his neck, his too long hair clinging to his skin, the damn collar shifting around. His pants stuck to his legs, outlining how much thinner he had become from lack of food. They hung off his hips when he moved now. Smoker tried to ignore it, but the gnawing in his belly still irked him. 

It was worse on rainy days. The water made the bars of his cage slippery, the ground muddy. Made it harder to train. Made it harder to ignore the world around him. His scars ached when it was damp. He never used to get cold either, but now? 

One of the other prisoners coughed. He didn’t know which, if it was the ink ink fruit user, or Gregory, the fishman with the scythe scythe fruit. Or maybe it was one of the regular humans. Sickness spread like hell through them whenever someone took ill, and that was the last damn thing he needed. 

Smoker had been watching the guards over the last few days. They were preparing for something, increasing the food supply, acting excited and jumpy. If they were going to bring in new prisoners…then it was likely they would be finally taking a few of them out. That meant his chance was coming. 

Escape or die trying. There was no fucking way he was going to let Blackbeard get his hands on his devil fruit power. 

Smoker watched the gate, eyes narrowed. It was hard to see the perimeter fence in the gloom, but they hadn’t been fed yet today. That meant something was up. Another cough, long and wet. Smoker pursed his lips. He hoped whoever it was hid it from the guards. If Shiryu found out… he took medicine to a level that no doctor would ever condone. 

Movement grabbed Smoker’s attention. 

The gate was opening, he could hear the guards shouting at each other over the rain. Gregory, a cage over perked up. “Any bets on who they got?” 

“Zoan, or paramecia,” he grunted, never taking his eyes off the gate. 

“That’s boring, spice it up a little VA,” Gregory grumbled. “I hope it’s a logia, maybe one of your old pals.” 

“With my luck, it’ll be Mugiwara,” Smoker muttered. Gregory looked over at him and laughed that weird laugh of his, like a door stopper twanging. 

“I think they’d just kill him, but wouldn’t that be something?” 

He was about to respond when the guards began herding men into the enclosure. All the prisoners were watching the gate now to see who would be joining them in Hell. Which people refused to join Blackbeard’s ranks, which Devil Fruits he was getting his damn hands on, which people he would sell to the highest bidders. 

Smoker wiped water out of his eyes as a line of six we’re hustled in. “Oi oi! Quit touchin’ me!” snarled one of them with bright green hair, kicking one of the guards in the shin. He got decked in return. 

“Hello ladies! We’ve got some new friends for you!” cackled Smoker’s least favorite guard, Shithead No.1. His beady little eyes roamed over them in their cages with glee. The new prisoners were beaten all to hell. Four Smoker didn’t recognize, but two he did. They somehow got their hands on Page One, one of Kaido’s old crew, and–

Bartolomeo the Cannibal spat on Shithead and busted ass on him when Shithead kicked him into the mud. None of them laughed, but Smoker smirked. Crude, but he’d take any little bit of retribution these days. 

“No food for you, ya little shit,” Shithead snarled before deciding which cages the new prisoners would be placed in. He eyed Bartolomeo and Page One, whose eyes were swollen shut. Blood dripped down his chest from a badly sewn up slice across his clavicle. Whoever he’d fought with had done a number on him.

They tossed the zoan user into the only empty cage, behind Smoker. A former Big Mom pirate used to inhabit it until they’d yanked her out a few months ago. Sometimes Smoker recalled the dead look in her eyes and vowed not to let that become him. Page One lay where he fell, not moving and still, hands cuffed behind his back. 

“Hmm…now for you…” Shithead walked up and down the cages in a display probably meant to intimidate Bartolomeo.

“Oh yeah that one Mr. Guard Sir! I’d eat her in a day!” the green haired pirate cackled when Shithead made a move to toss him in with one of the women in the back cages. Shithead slapped him upside the head but that didn’t deter his comments on every cage. “Hmm, that one could be good, make a nice pillow for my back!” SMACK! “Oh! I love Fishmen, super tasty!” THWACK! “A blonde? I’ve got a thing for those ya know~” CRACK!

Smoker stayed hunched in his corner. As fun as it was to watch Bartolomeo’s little show, if that idiot became his cellmate, Smoker’s chances of escape were reduced to fucking nil. They’d be watching them like a damn hawk. 

Finally Shithead reached Smoker’s and Gregory’s cages. “You really wanna put me with one of these guys? Cannibal ain’t f’ show ya know!” Bartolomeo grinned at his captor, showing off his teeth. Shithead was ignoring him for the moment, instead looking intently at Gregory who put his head down and looked away. 

With a slow grin, he turned to look at Smoker. Their eyes met. The smart thing would be to do what Gregory did. Look away, act like Shithead was in charge. Don’t be defiant. He could hear Hina yelling at him in the back of his head. “Play it smart! Don’t challenge your superiors!”

But that wasn’t his style. Had never been. He’d rather choke on his own tongue than give this piece of shit the satisfaction. He eyed him back, summoning his haki and letting it flex. It probably took more of his energy than he could spare, but seeing Shithead flinch was worth it. 

“Oooh scary,” Bartolomeo muttered. Whether he meant to be heard by Shithead, Smoker wasn’t sure, but Smoker wished he hadn’t said it. Instantly, the guard smiled evilly and gestured for his underling to unlock Smoker’s cage. 

“Have fun Vice Admiral!” he cackled as he kicked Smoker’s new cellmate in, the idiot knocking into him, making the air whoosh out of Smoker’s lungs. 

The guards left a few moments later, Bartolomeo rolling off of him and watching them go, calling out taunts. “Shut the fuck up would you?!” Smoker snarled. Bartolomeo gave him the finger.

“Guess you won our bet VA,” Gregory called from his cage. 

“Fuck you too,” Smoker spat. 

Rain pelted down, rivers running under the bars of the cage. Smoker hunched his shoulders, hands tucked under his arms and against his ribs, trying to ignore the shivers that wracked his frame. Across from him, legs stretched out in either an act of defiance or stupidity, was The Idiot. 

“Oi! What’s the point in keepin’ us like this?! If we die before you lousy fuckers get what you want, be pretty stupid!” Bartolomeo yelled towards the guard hut. A light from a window could be seen flickering indifferently. Shiryu was warm and dry inside with his men, probably enjoying his Warden duties. Fucker.

“Shut up dumbass. You don’t want them to 'make it more comfortable'. Trust me brat,” Gregory grumbled. Bartolomeo gave him the finger as another shiver ran down Smoker’s spine. When he escaped, he would go somewhere that had the opposite of tropical weather… After eating an entire roasted chicken. 

With Bartolomeo as his cellmate, he hadn’t gotten food either, his stomach reminding him painfully. 

Warm chocolate colored eyes looking up at him from over a cup of hot coffee flashed across his vision. “I’ll get you a muffin Sir.”

“Oi, matey,” came The Idiot’s voice. His green hair was wilted and soggy, reflecting the ever present floodlight from the guard house. It took Smoker a moment to realize that Bartolomeo was talking to him. 

“I’m not your “matey”,” he growled. 

“Yah ya are, we’re cellmates! Mateys!” he grinned, seeming to enjoy the glare Smoker shot at him. “You look familiar, where ya from? What’s your name pal?” 

“What’s it to you?” Smoker muttered. Pain in his ass. In what felt like a lifetime ago, he recalled the cobbled streets of Loguetown and swatting a brat with green hair and an attitude away from a storefront. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize him with long hair and a beard.

“...I know I know ya from somewhere!” Bartolomeo narrowed his eyes at Smoker, sticking a finger in his ear then blanching as he unintentionally gave himself a wet willy. Dumbass. 

“Idiot,” Smoker rolled his eyes, willing his body to quit shivering. 

“Wait.” Shit. 

“Wait a sec-” Smoker closed his eyes. 

“No fukin’ way! There ain’t no fuckin’ way!” The Idiot’s eyes went comically large. “You! You’re that Navy guy! The one who went after Luffy-senpai!” He pointed hysterically at Smoker.

Luffy-senpai? For fucks sake. A fanboy was worse than Mugiwara himself. Smoker didn’t answer him. Yeah, that was a different life. A different time. “Smoker-san we’ll get stronger!” Her voice whispered in his ears.  

“Well, just for chasin’ Luffy-senpai, I won’t hold ya for warmth!” 

“What the- I don’t want your warmth! Touch me and I’ll break your neck!” Smoker barked. 

Bartolomeo stuck his tongue out at him. Fucking little–! It was at that moment, a strange noise met Smoker’s ears. A pittering, or a swishing, barely detectable in the rain. “Barto-land!” It was so small, a squeak. Like a balloon deflating, like a hamster. A weird little voice. If Smoker had been any farther away from Bartolomeo, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

The Idiot went still. “Barto-land! It’s me! Leo!” came the tiny squeak again. A smile, a truly nefarious shit-eating grin ate up Bartolomeo’s face. 

“Leo! Knew the fleet would come fa’ me!” he whispered, way too smug and way too loud. For a moment, a pang of irrational jealousy surged through Smoker’s veins. No one had come for him. Not Hina, not Kuzan. And Tashigi left to fend for herself.

He shoved it away to focus. They all thought he was dead anyway dammit. He leaned closer, a river of water running past his nose.

“Umm…actually it’s just me…” the tiny voice, Leo, mumbled. 

“...Seriously? Not even Cabbage?!”

“...Well, uh, I’m sure they wanted to come!” 

“We’re all brothers under Luffy-senpai, you tell those bastards to get over here!” Bartolomeo hissed. 

“I will! But, erm, it’ll have to wait cause they’re all going to meet up with Lucy-land so…” Smoker made out the form of the tiniest person he had ever seen peeking out from under Bartolomeo’s drenched hair. 

“THEY’RE WHAT?!”

“Oi! Shut up!” Smoker hissed and jerked his head at the guard’s hut. The last thing they needed was a beatdown from Shiryu! The tiny person in Bartolomeo’s hair startled and vanished under the green before reappearing, brandishing something that glinted in light. A big drop of rain fell on their head, making them shake like a squirrel. 

“Mind yer own business, grumpy!” The Idiot squawked at him and Smoker rolled his eyes. Leo seemed to be smarter than Bartolomeo however and was regarding him like a soldier.

“You got a plan to get him outta here?” Smoker directed his question to Leo. 

The little being sweat dropped. “Er… Yeah! I uh… I totally h-have a p-plan! Agh! No I don’t!” 

Smoker pinched the bridge of his nose. Why were all the people Mugiwara associated with idiots? Himself included. 

“Leo! Don’t talk to the enemy!”

“Oh no! He’s the enemy?!”

“I’m not the enemy!” Smoker growled. Leo squeaked and quailed under his glare before taking a battle stance again on Bartolomeo’s head. Now Bartolomeo rolled his eyes.

“You’re Navy, of course you’re the enemy, dummy.”

Fury boiled up inside him, eating at his throat like acid. 

The silver snail shrieked in his palm. Their orders were clear. All he was supposed to do was fire. Give the order. The other ships were waiting. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” came Dalmation’s voice from another snail. Tashigi’s fists were clenched, biting her lip so hard it bled. Tears were running down her cheeks as they watched people on the pier scatter like ants. Mothers clasping at sobbing children, terrified animals breaking loose from merchant carts. 

“Not. Anymore.” The words whistled through his clenched teeth. Thunder rumbled overhead. For a moment, the cold and the rain were forgotten. The two pirates gazed at him.

“Alright, Matey, ya got somethin’ ya wanna share?” Bartolomeo leaned back against the bars of his cage.

This was his chance, and Smoker was damn well going to take it.

Chapter Text

The Ghost slipped through the water under the cover of darkness. Silent and quick, her crew moving with practiced ease. Tashigi stood on the deck, her eyes flicking to the mangrove branches drooping overhead. 

This grove was the only place closest to the island that would work to hide them. Through the vines and trailing leaves, she could see it. Lights illuminating the vague shape of the island. They would camp here. “Weigh anchor!” she called out, barely acknowledging the sound of her men rushing about to comply. 

Somewhere on that sad little splotch of land was her target.

The low light of her lantern swayed gently, the ship creaking, the waves rolling. Familiar, the sounds of a life at sea. But there were other sounds, branches swaying, birds hooting. Her men on the deck below playing a dice game. On her old ship, she’d never been able to hear the other decks. Navy ships had thicker floors, thicker walls. 

Bigger cannons. Tashigi stared down at Shiryu’s wanted poster on her tiny table. He looked like a smug bastard. She flipped the paper over, looking at his profile. User of the Suke Suke fruit, and wielder of a meito rank sword. Raiu. A nodachi of that caliber deserved a better owner. 

He would be a tough opponent. His fruit would be tricky. But what irked Tashigi most was that she still didn’t know what he was doing out on this outpost. It had to be important to the Blackbeard pirates. She turned the paper back over again and glared at him. The cigar in his mouth caught her eye and her breath hitched.

…Smoker used to smoke the same ones. 

Puru puru puru puru

Tashigi looked up, eyes zeroing in on the drawer under her bed. The one filled with things from her old life. Her old coat and brightly colored shirts that wearing now just felt wrong. Her dog tags. Things she’d been able to retrieve from her apartment on G-5 after the trial. 

“Hina always told him. Warned him. Don’t make a fuss. Listen to our superiors. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! A waste!” Hina slurred drunkenly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. Tashigi hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t thanked her for sticking her neck out for her and the remaining survivors of their unit. Hadn’t thanked her for the dishonorable discharge instead of the prison sentence. 

And why should she?

Her body felt like wood as she walked the short space to her bed and opened the drawer. For a moment, the smell of cigar smoke, soaked into the fabric of her old coat washed over her. Tashigi’s heart clenched. She'd used to wash all her clothes two times to try and wring some of the smell out until she gave up. Until she’d been unable to smell it anymore. Until it had soaked into her skin, her way of life, a little piece of him always with her.

Tashigi’s vision shrank and blurred. That hole inside her that Shigure now hummed to fill with blood tore open, shrieking and violent, ripping at the quiet that had been her thoughts just a few moments before. The same pain that fueled her duels, that had now claimed the swords from dozens of powerful fighters, the same desperate urge that led her to spend her hours training, training, training-

Puru puru puru puru

Like lightning, her fingers snatched up the small long range den den mushi, its eyes looking up at her balefully. Awakened from its long slumber to a face that only looked at it with loathing. She would have felt bad once. Maybe she still did. 

gacha

“Arara… been a while Tashigi-chan,” came a voice she hadn’t heard in months. Not since the funeral. If you could even call it that. 

“What do you want?” 

A sigh on the other end and the sound of a glass being set down. Or maybe a bottle, since it was Kuzan. “Heard you’re on the hunt.” Of course he had. Smoker had always hated that Kuzan seemed to have his lazy ass planted in so many ears, though it had saved them a few times in the past.

Until the time they could have used him most. 

“Be clear or I hang up,” Tashigi said coldly. Another sigh. Another drink.

“Shiryu of the Rain isn’t some run of the… what’s the word? Damn whatever, anyway, swordsman.” As if Tashigi didn’t already know that. A high ranking commander of a Yonko. Formerly a high ranking member of the Navy. 

“And?” 

“...I’m saying be careful. Don’t go in blindly. Scope it out and use…the environment… to your advantage. It’ll be a tough one, maybe not something you can win on your own.” Irritation sparked up her spine, into her fingers. For almost a year now, Tashigi had been going up against enemies with her tiny crew of 15. Her men from G-5. Men loyal enough to follow her, who understood her pain.

Not men like Kuzan. Who wasn’t there.

“Is that all?” she ground out, jaw clenched.. 

“...Figured I wouldn’t be able to sway you, but Smoker would roll in his grave if I didn’t try. You always were his-” The irritation roared into fury.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Maybe if you had cared this much about him before, he would still be here.” A low blow. Kuzan had saved his life before, but the longer Tashigi looked at it, the more it seemed like Kuzan was just looking for a use for his own ends. Always shadows and walking the line. 

Silence met her words for a long, long minute. No sighs, no drinking. Just a drawn out pause. 

“Listen, if you live… I’m meeting up with some old friends, people who…maybe feel like you do. If you’re interested, seek out the old ruins of Ohara.” And with that, Kuzan hung up.

Tashigi stared at the snail. Old friends, the only friends she had in common with Kuzan were Hina and Coby, who were still members of the Navy. Her enemies now. Or…?

A complicated and conflicting swirl of emotions bubbled in her chest. She set the snail back down in the drawer, her fingers lingering over her coat, and below it, two cigars. Inhale. The smokey scent wrapped around her. Tashigi closed her eyes.

He leaned back against the wall on top of the barracks, cigar smoke huffing into the cool night air. She sat next to him, knees drawn up to her chest. A rager was going on down below. The G-5 partying, not for any particular reason other than they were finally back at Base from Vegapunk’s Lab, could finally “relax”. They were pairing up and drinking, breaking things. 

“So better or worse than Alabasta?” came Smoker’s low rumble. She glanced over at him. He’d healed well from Doflamingo’s attack, but if she looked closely, she could make out the still pink thread scars. 

Tashigi pursed her lips. After Alabasta, she’d cried alone in her cabin. Sobbed until she couldn’t breathe. Been unable to do anything to right wrongs. At least this time they were able to help innocents. At least this time…

“It’s less lonely,” she responded, giving him a weak half smile. 

“Misery does love company,” he grunted.

“Are you miserable?” she gazed at him while he looked up at the sky, stars twinkling. His eyes wandered down over their men, before moving over to her. 

“...No, the company is too good for that. The booze is shit though.” She laughed.

Tashigi closed the drawer and swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. It didn’t matter, all her feelings. She would deal with them later, after she annihilated Shiryu of the Rain.

Chapter Text

The bars were hot against Smoker’s skin, the sun back to baking them all in their cages. The world spun slightly, hazy and woozy. He knew that was not good, not for his health, and certainly not for their escape plan. 

But hunger from no food for three damn days would do that to a person. Fucking Bartolomeo and his big mouth. Said idiot was slumped against the bars on the other side of the cage, picking his teeth. A fly buzzed overhead, attracted to the idiot’s green hair. 

Smoker closed his eyes, letting the dizziness and heat carry him away.

Black hair glittered in the sun, a crown of bright pink flowers sitting delicately atop her head. Children smiled brightly at her, handing her daisies or shiny rocks and seashells. The sun dress that hung loosely about her knees was lively, impractical. Rare for her to wear. A picnic basket sat next to her, full of bentos she had packed. One of the giant squirts turned bright red when he handed her a daisy and she gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she noticed him leaning against a tree in the shade, watching. 

She hadn’t expected him to be out of bed yet, injuries still healing. 

The smile that she beamed in his direction took his breath away, and he had to look away or be burned by the sheer light it held.

“Who the heck is Tashigi?”

Smoker jerked awake, his mouth dry and neck sore from being bent at a weird angle. He blinked against the fading sunlight at The Idiot, taking a long moment to parse that sentence. He made a face and turned away from the annoying little bastard. Tashigi’s name coming out of his mouth was just…wrong.

“Don’t be like that, ya got me all curious with the sleep talk!” Smoker gave him the finger. The Idiot blew a raspberry at him in response. 

“They a dog?” 

“What?” 

“They sound like a dog with the way you’re whinin’ for ‘em,” Bartolomeo grinned at the scowl on Smoker’s face. 

“Tashigi~ Taaaaashigi~!” the bastard sang at him, putting on a simpering face. 

“Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up,” Smoker growled. He knew that Bartolomeo fed on threats, but he couldn’t help it. First of all he didn’t sound like that, and second of all, fuck this guy. 

“Aw it’s okay matey, I got a dog I miss too. Mine’s prissy as hell though,” he grinned. Smoker rolled his eyes, shifting again. His stomach clenched when he moved, a small wave of dizziness making him pant for a moment.

“How long since ya seen ‘em?” Was this idiot really trying to bond with him? Smoker would take Mugiwara over this. This was torture. But the question sat in his head. He didn’t even know if she had made it to safety or if she’d gone down in the hail of cannon fire from the Buster Call on the coast of Alabasta. 

“Would you shut up?” he grunted. 

“Fine, here I was thinkin’ o’ being nice n’ huntin’ ‘em down if ya die.” Smoker gave him a glare, but there wasn’t as much heat behind it as there could have been. The lack of food was really getting to him.

“She already thinks I’m dead so don’t waste your time,” he muttered. Instead of having the reaction Smoker was expecting, mainly one of derision or assholery, Bartolomeo’s eyes went big and watery. 

“That’s so sad matey!” he practically bawled. Smoker gave him an utterly disgusted look as the sun slipped below the horizon. Crickets began chirping, the prison lights turned on, distracting Bartolomeo. “Well maybe you’ll get a happy ending, unless ya go after Luffy-senpai! Then I’ll kill ya myself,” he grinned, eyes now watching the grass. 

“Whatever,” Smoker grunted, watching the grass as well. In the cage behind him, Page One shifted slightly, more than Smoker had seen the pirate move since arriving, but he stilled again. Smoker went back to looking at the elongating shadows as darkness began settling around them.

Eventually, a tiny pattering reached his ears. The grass rustled just a little, a tiny shape darting from shadow to shadow before jumping and diving into Bartolomeo’s hair. “You do it Leo?!” The Idiot whispered excitedly. 

Leo’s tiny face popped out, shoulders hunched and eyes shifty. Smoker sighed, hope falling. “No…t yet,” the little dumbass said. 

Bartolomeo went to whack him on the head, Leo dodging and only making Bartolomeo succeed in hitting himself. “You damn squir-!”

“What went wrong?” Smoker asked, stopping Bartolomeo’s tirade. The tiny soldier hopped off Bartolomeo and onto Smoker’s knee instead with a tiny salute. 

“I looked everywhere but the keys weren’t in any drawers or usual places where you big people put things!” he pouted, tiny tail puffing out. 

“Damn,” Smoker muttered, “That means they’re probably on his person.” That made things trickier. Phase one of the plan just got harder. The seastone collar around Smoker’s neck itched. Bartolomeo crossed his arms and cursed. 

“It’s okay, I’ll get them anyway!” Leo puffed out his chest. Smoker admired his big aspirations, but shook his head. “Don’t underestimate me, I’m Leo the Brave, the strongest of the Tontatta!”

“Nah, goin’ up alone against this guy is bad news,” Bartolomeo said, picking his nose. Leo frowned, tail twitching. 

“Then…t-then what should I do?! How c-could I face Lucy-land if I don’t save you?!” he wailed at Bartolomeo like air escaping a balloon, big fat tears forming in his tiny eyes.

“Not so damn loud! Just gonna take longer, you keep watching what Shiryu does, and when the time is right, snatch the keys,” Smoker muttered. Like switching on a light, the tiny tontatta perked right up. 

“Wow you’re so smart! That’s a great plan!” he squeaked, eyes sparkling at Smoker.  

“Yeah yeah whatever, jus’ don’ get caught,” Bartolomeo groused. Leo nodded then hopped away and vanished once more into the grass.

More flies buzzed over their cage, Bartolomeo only giving them half-hearted swats now. It was too hot for this early in the day, and the lack of food was finally starting to get to him too. Smoker sat with his head between his knees, feeling his heartbeat through his bones. 

“Smoker-san!” she cried out, her voice lost among the cannonfire as she fell from his sight over the side of the ship. But he could feel it. The despair, the fear, the betrayal, the… He took a breath, wondering where she was. If she was still alive, where would she go? Would she still be with the Navy? Would she have gone back to the East Blue? 

The door of the guard hut opened suddenly, making him look up. This wasn’t their usual routine. Something was happening. Dread settled in Smoker’s stomach as Shithead the Guard approached their cage, a bucket in his hand. 

“Enjoying the heat, boys?” Shithead cackled at them. Smoker ignored him, eyes instead on the bucket. What was going on? Bartolomeo yawned and swatted at a fly, also ignoring Shithead, who scowled.

“Well, I’ve got something for ya, a parting gift,” he rattled the bucket, the sound metallic and loud. Smoker tensed. No way. Not now! Shithead grinned evilly, his beady eyes crinkling up. “That’s right! I told ya Vice Admiral that your turn was comin’ up soon!” 

More guards came out of the guard hut, guns pointed at them. “Huh? What’re you goin’ on about? You goin’ away somewhere, ugly?” Bartolomeo asked Shithead, who glared. 

“I’ll enjoy hearing how you screamed when Captain Blackbeard takes your power,” Shithead snarled, pulling handcuffs out of the bucket. The world shrank down, rage burning away the exhaustion in Smoker’s veins. The burst of adrenaline wouldn’t last long, but there was no way he was going down without a fight.

Wordlessly, Bartolomeo scooted closer to him as one of the other guards unlocked the cage. “If ya think this’ll be easy, ya’ve got another thing comin’!” 

It was easier than Smoker would have liked. They had no space to maneuver in the cage, were starving, and getting hit on all sides from outside the bars. The smart thing to do would have been to start struggling once outside the cage, but in a fight to the death, thinking straight was not so easy. 

His face slammed against the dirt, a glob of spit landing on his back, Bartolomeo thrashing next to him as he fought the guards putting shackles on his wrists and ankles. 

They had been close, so damn close, that for a little while there, Smoker had started to think that maybe, just maybe, he could see her smile again. The adrenaline surge was fading, this was his last chance! He just needed to get up one more time-!

He struggled to his feet under a hail of blows aware in a strange way of Bartolomeo flailing wildly, the chains clanging, Gregory watching from his cage, a grimace on his face. He didn’t see the guard to his right, bringing up the butt of his rifle. 

As it cracked into the side of Smoker’s head, making him fall once again, he saw a tiny shape in the grass, then knew no more.

“So, we skipped Phase one an’ are now on Phase two, ya still with me Matey?” 

“Quit calling me that,” Smoker groaned, awareness slowly coming back to him. A small bit of light was coming through a grate overhead and it took him a long moment to recognize that the swaying he was feeling wasn’t because of the pounding in his head, but because they were on a ship.

That woke him fully.

“Fuck, have we left dock yet?” 

“Don’ think so, they're loading empty crates ‘n crap right now,” Bartolomeo muttered. Smoker pulled against his restraints, the shackles on his wrists and ankles barely giving him enough room to sit up. 

“Then there’s still time,” Smoker muttered. 

“Yeah, got any ideas, smart guy?” Bartolomeo crossed his legs and wiped dried blood on the back of his arm sleeve. Honestly? No, he didn’t. But as long as he was still breathing, there was a chance. If a stupid brat like Mugiwara could turn the world upside down, then Smoker wouldn’t settle for anything less for himself.

“Be patient,” he said, wincing as his ribs twinged. A pounding was building in his head, seeming to echo around the cargo hold. 

“That’s it?!” The Idiot squawked.

Less than a second later, all hell broke loose. The ship lurched to the side, the two of them painfully rolling with it, their restraints keeping them from crashing into the walls. A great roaring filled the air, then more bashing, followed by yelling and bullets firing. 

“What the hell?!” Bartolomeo screeched as they were then rolled the other direction as the ship lurched again. Smoker’s ribs screamed in protest and he clenched his teeth.

“Barto-land!” came a squeaky yell as something tiny dropped through the grates from the deck above. 

“Leo!” 

The ship shook, more bullets, and something else too. A wave of haki washed over them. A full fight was going on up above. 

“Hold still, I’ll get you free!” Leo squeaked, brandishing his shining weird needle. 

“You got the keys?!” Smoker gasped against the pain in his side. 

“Don’t need them!” the Tontatta piped, jabbing his needle into the lock in the sea stone collar around Bartolomeo’s neck.

“YOU CAN PICK LOCKS?!” both he and the pirate yelled. Bartolomeo’s collar fell away. The green haired pirate blinked then whacked Leo on the head, flattening him for a moment. He looked up at Bartolomeo apologetically. 

“Why didn’t you do this earlier?!” 

“Because it wasn’t part of the plan!” Leo quailed away from the looks of incredulous fury on both their faces. Only Mugiwara’s allies could be this dumb.

“...Just get this damn thing off of me!” Smoker barked. The Tontatta hopped to it as Bartolomeo broke the rest of his shackles. 

“Is the fleet here to save me?!” The Idiot cried as the ship rocked wildly. The collar on Smoker’s neck came free. He was free, for the first time since the Buster Call. His skin buzzed, strength returning to him. A feral grin broke out across his face.

“No, just a dinosaur!” Leo yelped as Smoker turned to smoke beneath him. Wait a what? Milliseconds later, said dinosaur crashed through the ceiling with a roar, blood streaking from a gaping wound in its side.

PAGE 1 could just be seen across his scarred chest. 

“You just don’t know how to stay down huh? Your sister was the same way,” came a deep throated chuckle. Through the dust, a shadow fell across their unexpected ally. Tall and imposing, the Warden, Shiryu of the Rain gazed down, a lit cigar in his mouth. 

“You… bastard… I’ll make you pay for Ulti!” growled the zoan, struggling to get to his clawed feet. 

“Such a shame, your power woulda made a great addition to our ranks,” Shiryu tightened his grip on his nodachi, moving so fast Smoker barely saw the sword slice through the air.

“BARRIER!” what looked like a blue plane of glass sprung up in front of Page One. The force of the cut rebounding blew chunks of wood and metal everywhere. The ship groaned and crackled ominously. 

Smoker took the opportunity of surprise to coat his fist in haki and fire it off to slam into Shiryu’s stomach. His own ribs screamed in pain, but adrenaline made it barely noticeable. Shiryu flew backward, crashing into and cracking the mast of the ship. 

“Not bad Matey!” Bartolomeo cackled, his fingers crossed, the barrier in front of Page One disappearing. The zoan got to his feet, a frightening amount of blood splashing onto the wood below their feet. 

“It’s not over yet,” Smoker growled, taking a stance and wishing he had his jitte. 

“A prison break huh? What a pain,” came Shiryu’s drawl over the sound of breaking wood. “Though that was a good shot, deserving of a Vice Admiral,” the bastard chuckled. He looked across from them, the middle of the ship a mass of destroyed boards and metal. Smoker could hear water rushing through gashes in the hull. 

“Watch out, he’s got a devil fruit too,” rasped Page One. Three half dead devil fruit users and a Tontatta versus one of the strongest men on the sea. A betting man would not like their odds, and Smoker was a betting man. This was going to take everything they had. 

“Stay behind me!” Bartolomeo yelled, that blue plane of glass springing into existence again. “Nothing can get through my barri-!” He shrieked as a sword slash crashed against it, cracks spreading outward. Haki, damn!

“Oi, Tontatta!” Smoker snarled as more slashes came flying their way. The barrier held, but Smoker could tell it wouldn’t last. 

“Do something ya morons!” Bartolomeo shouted. Leo popped his head out of Bartolomeo’s hair at Smoker’s summons. He pointed at a seastone collar peeking out from the debris. 

“We’ll distract him while you get that on him!” The little warrior nodded and disappeared. 

“Come on, this is boring, don’t you want to have a little fun?” Shiryu taunted as he flung another sword slice through the air, haki turning it a terrifying dark color. The slash was deflected once more but the barrier flickered, Bartolomeo gritting his teeth. 

Smoker used the dust to his advantage and disappeared within it. He swirled around, staying low, out of sight. If he could get past the bastard’s guard-!

Page One roared and charged at Shiryu as the barrier broke and Bartolomeo darted away with a shriek. The swordsman dodged out of the way of his snapping jaws, before vanishing. “The hell?!” Bartolomeo yelled. 

A slash opened on Page One’s other side, viscera bursting in the air. Page One screamed and changed into his midlevel form, breathing heavily and swaying on his feet. The cuts weren’t healing fast enough even with his zoan powers. Shiryu stayed invisible and Smoker cursed. This was going to hurt.

He spread out in his smoke form, blanketing the area, feeling, searching! Another sword slash towards Bartolomeo, a dark chuckle when The Idiot screamed, not getting his barrier up fast enough to stop Shiryu’s onslaught. 

But Smoker had him. Shiryu’s invisibility couldn’t hide from his smoke. Instantly, he wrapped an arm around the Warden’s neck, hollering “Now!” and praying to whatever god might be listening that this would work.

“Take this you meanie!” came a shrill yell and a click, Shiryu reappearing, sea stone collar around his neck. Smoker smirked before Shiryu slammed his head back into Smoker’s chin. The world swayed, and he reformed, barely rolling out of the way of a sword slash. 

“How ya like that seastone, asshole?!” wheezed Bartolomeo from a smashed hole in the deck. He was clutching a broken arm. The water was louder now. Smoker struggled to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. 

“You boys are more fun than I was expecting,” Shiryu grinned sinisterly before leaping into the air and launching a barrage of sword strikes at them. 

“Not even seastone stopped him?! This guy sucks!” Bartolomeo cried out, his barrier holding out against the barrage but only just. They certainly had his full attention now! 

“This is for my sister!” 

Page One appeared behind Shiryu and sank his huge teeth into Shiryu’s sword arm. The bastard roared and thrashed, Page One holding on with only the strength a dinosaur could possess. He was finally flung free, smashing down into the deck again. 

But he got his pound of flesh. 

“You-!”

Whatever else Shiryu was going to say was drowned out by a great groaning and cracking. The wood beneath their feet was lurching and splitting. The ship was sinking! With a great SNAP the keel gave way, the force of it sending them all rolling and toppling. 

Smoker saw Bartolomeo disappear under wood and sea water, Page One losing consciousness and reverting to his human form before the sea took him too. Smoker clung to a floating piece of the deck, desperately trying to keep his footing. 

Then he felt it. A monstrous presence, wrathful, evil. Right behind him. He turned out of the way of a slash, losing his footing, ribs screaming a blinding white. His cheek split open, blood getting into his eye. 

Shiryu glared at him with unbridled rage, nodachi shimmering with blood. Blood was splurting down Shiryu’s arm from Page One’s bite. The world was spinning, pain and exhaustion making Smoker slow.

“The Captain’ll hafta forgive me, you’re not worth tha’ effort of saving!” Shiryu of the Rain raised his sword in his non-dominant hand. This was it. The end. Smoker didn’t have the strength to move, and his allies were gone. He pictured Tashigi’s smile, warm and bright. Not a bad last thought.

The blade came towards him as his knees gave out. Something moved in the corner of his eye, fast and shining-

Then Smoker lost consciousness once again.

Chapter Text

The hull of Ghost creaked, the low lantern light swaying overhead, casting shadows across the makeshift medical bay. Voices and footsteps rumbled through the walls. Her ship was fuller than she could ever recall. 

The mess was active, cranking out meals from their supplies, from their emergency stores too, but they would have enough to return to Hana Island. From there… Tashigi wasn’t sure what the plan was. Kuzan’s voice floated by, Ohara huh? Maybe… but the decision wasn’t only hers to make now. 

The crate beneath her was hard and unfriendly, leaving angry red dents on her thighs, but getting up didn’t occur to her. On some level, Tashigi was aware that the gash that ran down her right arm, and the series of cuts across the left side of her ribs, and the rend across her left calf ached. If she thought hard, she could recall taking the hits.

Recall the rage that flooded her veins, the single minded focus that washed everything away except the urge to kill. Shiryu of the Rain could have been Red Rose Vista, or Slasher McBane or any of the others she had crossed off her list. Their faces blurred together only memorable for the Shigure had pulsed in her hands, each cut precise and unforgiving.

But that was all a thousand miles away, minuscule in comparison to her existence right now. Right here, in this room. Up, and down. Up, and down. Inhale…exhale. Small movements, each one special, each one momentous. The way the sheets lay just so, the smell of antiseptic.

He looked so fragile on the cot, cheeks sunken in, bandages wrapped around his torso, his arms. But it was him . The same scar across his forehead and clavicle. The same white hair though longer now. 

Smoker’s chest rose impossibly up and down.

And that…that changed everything.

Coming back to the land of the living was always a process. It wasn’t like waking up after falling asleep. It was always a disconcerting checklist of questions to answer. 

What hurt? Everything. His ribs, his head, his left knee felt like it’d been hit with a hammer. All the stupid and irritating alarms going off in his brain saying “Problem”. And once he gained enough awareness to look beyond the problem alerts, he had the next question to answer.

Where was he? A much shittier question to answer, because it required that he open his eyes. A real pain at the moment. So he started with the fact that wherever he was, it was not the cage. He couldn’t feel the dirt and metal bars beneath him. Instead, it was…soft. 

Alright, that was enough to convince him to open his eyes. Slowly, the world came into focus. He was swaying slightly. A wooden ceiling hovered above him. The sound of the ocean, and muffled voices. 

“Oh shit Matey!” And not so muffled voices. “You ain’t dead!” 

Bright green hair and fangs got way too close to Smoker’s face. “Get off me,” he coughed, throat dry. There was water near him, moving to get it was a pain, and of course, The Idiot didn’t try to help him. 

Good actually. 

There were no shackles on his wrists, no collar around his neck. Just bandages. “And quit calling me that,” he finally added after taking what may have been the best drink of water he’d had in his life. 

“Man not even tha’ close a brush with good ol’ death could make ya less grumpy huh?” Bartolomeo was grinning at him, arm in a sling, and a nasty black eye in the process of healing. Flashes of the battle came swinging for Smoker’s head. Page One, Shiryu, the ship sinking–

“Where the hell are we?” he tensed, getting his ass in gear as it were, putting his head on straight. Attempting to answer the final question on the list. 

“Ya ain’t gonna believe this, apparently the Revs put out a hit on that shithead Shiryu, and saved our asses! You shoulda seen it Matey, Autumn Rain was almost as cool as Zoro-Senpai! Her sword skills were-”

Revolutionaries? The Idiot was talking fast, and waving his hand around excitedly, dumbstruck and starry eyed. The words had to be sorted through in Smoker’s head, as he only just figured out that the reason the world was swaying was because he was on a ship. 

“-her crew dragged us outta the wreck and freed the other guys once Ugly got his ass kicked to Hell-”

Shiryu was dead then? Wait–

“-it’s pretty cool ‘cause Flame Emperor Sabo n’ Luffy-senpai r’ brothers so da’ Revs are like cousins to da’ fleet so tha’ makes-” Bartolomeo’s accent got worse when he was excited, which did not help Smoker’s brain fog.

Wait, did he say Autumn Rain?!

In an instant, Smoker was on his feet and going for the door, injuries be damned. There was no way it could be her. But maybe it was. After all, he was supposed to be dead, and he wasn’t. There was a saying that once you’d been on one ship, you’d been on them all, the way around clear even after all this time. No bars, no guards. There was only one deck above him, the stairs upward flying under his feet. 

The faces he passed heading topside were surprised blurs, the only thing that mattered was–

He flung open the door with a bang, winded and ribs aching, knee throbbing. The sky was a bright and vivid blue, huge puffy white clouds floating high above. Blood red sails, fat with the wind. And faces staring at him wide eyed. 

Familiar faces.

“SMO-YAN!” Tashigi turned at the sound of the door thwacking open, her heart leaping into her throat.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!”

“WE MISSED YOU SMO-YAN!” Her men abandoned their tasks on deck and rushed forward, blocking him from view. They crowded around him, patting him on the back and ugly sobbing loudly. For a solid second, she thought he would throw them off, but he didn’t. Perhaps he was just as stunned as they were that this was happening at all. That he was here, among their men. Hands on his head, on his face, laughing and talking over each other. 

Way too much touching, she could sense the change in the air, like remembering how to ride a bike. 

“Get back to work, we’re still in Blackbeard’s territory, no relaxing until we’re clear!” she shouted.

“Sorry Captain-chan!” the former soldiers of G-5 chorused and scattered from him, back to their duties. Leaving just Smoker and Tashigi to stare at one another. Him with no shoes and donated pants from one of their crew, with hair that was too long and a scruffy beard. 

Her with a lurid pink shirt under her dark green Revolutionary cloak instead of the pristine white of the Navy. Longer hair, boots and blue jeans. Did he see the grief that had lived on her face for a year? Her vision blurred with tears as she walked towards him, biting her lip. Smoker opened his mouth, but no words came out. At a loss for words, and that was okay because Tashigi was too.

Her arms wrapped around his too thin middle, there on the deck with the wind blowing and the flag of freedom flying high above. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, chin on the top of her head.

He smelled like smoke, but without the heat of his old cigars. That was okay, she could fix that.

The stars glittered and twinkled, thousands of them. He hadn’t seen them in what felt like a lifetime. No harsh glare of the watch light. No bars to block his vision. The wind blew through his newly shorn hair, cool against his freshly shaved face. His stomach didn’t clench and ache for food. His skin didn’t sting from the sun, or the rain.

The crow’s nest was empty but for him, Bo having given it up for him, the bucket on his head now with the RA symbol instead of G-5. He could hear the high and low pitches of voices from the mess down below. He’d left the crowded space of partying sailors and former prisoners for the quiet of the night air. 

The door opened, Bartolomeo’s booming laughing echoing stupidly before being muffled again. Footsteps on the ladder, climbing up, hand over hand. Then softly padding over to him, to lean on the balcony next to him. 

They stood in silence for a little while. There was a lot to say.

“I don’t think I ever expected to be on the same ship as Bartolomeo the Cannibal and Page One of the Beast Pirates at the same time,” Tashigi broke the quiet. 

“Didn’t expect to see a Tontatta riding a dinosaur either,” he responded.

“Wait, you saw that?!” her eyes went wide, the stars reflecting in their depths.

“No, but Leo says that’s how he got on Shiryu’s ship and Page One isn’t denying it,” the corner of his mouth twitched upward at the sound of Tashigi’s laugh.

Her laugh, a sound he wasn’t sure he was ever going to hear again. A sound that sat inside him, warm and safe during the freezing nights in the cage. His chest tightened.

“Tashigi,” he started, looking at her, tracing the shape of her face in the starlight. 

“No,” she said suddenly. He blinked. She took a deep breath, the sound hitched and tight. “Before you say anything, I…” she paused, trying to regain control of the tremble in her voice.

“I thought you were dead. I watched the ship go down! I waited for you to come back, I got thrown in the brig for it. I… I went to your f-funeral. If I had known, if I had thought… if I had looked harder I… I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke and she looked away. 

He stared at her, bewildered. 

“I was supposed to be dead, what the hell are you apologizing for?” he ground out after a moment. 

“But I-!”

“I meant to go down with the ship, Tashigi,” he clenched his hands on the railing, the wood smooth under his palms. “You’re not supposed to come back from a Buster Call,” he spat out. A last stand for his principles. A death that was supposed to mean something. 

“...Stupid!” He blinked again. Tashigi’s hands were balled into fists. “Stupid! Stupid stupid! Dumb! You!” she stammered.

“Seriou-” he narrowed his eyes. That was not how she was supposed to react to his statement.  

“Do you have any idea what it’s been like without you?!” she cried, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. “I’ve thought about that day every single day! Of you going down. Of-of you looking at me and disappearing in the flames!” 

“You don’t think I don’t? I made the decision that annihilated our ship,” he snarled.

“Who said you could choose to go down with it?!” 

“That’s what a Captain does!”

“You weren’t Captain! I WAS!” she yelled before tears started rolling down her face. “We should have made that decision together! I would have gone down with you!”

“And I couldn’t let that happen!” he roared back. He would do it all over again too. Suffer through the cage, and the days in and out of taunting and waiting as long as it meant she lived. They both went silent, breathing heavily. Tashigi turned away, her shoulders shaking. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. Damn.  

“This is not how I wanted this to go,” he muttered, putting his hand over his face. She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

“How did you want it to go?” she whispered, back still turned to him. Words lodged in his throat, the thousand scenarios that he’d imagined for months racing across his brain. 

“I don’t know, but I… I didn’t think I’d make you cry,” he turned away now, shoulders hunching. They were quiet for a long time. The stars passed overhead, the party going through phases of getting louder then settling into a lull. The moon, just a small sliver, was making its way towards the horizon. 

“Smoker,” came Tashigi’s voice. 

“No,” he muttered, just to be pedantic.

“What?”

He sighed and waved her on to continue. Tashigi took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. There was a new strength in there. In that moment, he could see her taking down Shiryu of the Rain. Her declaration to get stronger in Alabasta echoed in his head. 

“I can’t say that I forgive you, not yet, but… you’re here. I’m- I’m so happy you’re here,” she whispered, this time there was a tiny smile on her lips. He looked away and out at the vast open sea, the waves reflecting the fading star light. 

“So Autumn Rain huh?” he asked after a short while. 

“...What about it?” she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Little bit…” he tilted his hand back and forth in a middling gesture. Tashigi made a face at him.

“Says “The White Hunter”,” she pouted. 

“Not my title anymore,” he rumbled. That didn’t sting as much as he expected. They were closer now. He could feel the heat of her hand next to his. 

“That’s true… guess you’ll need a new one?” she put a finger on her lips, thinking. “What about… hmmm… Smoke Matey?” 

“Agh not you too,” he groaned. She smiled a little wider. The sides of their hands touched. Fuck, she was real. He was really here.

“Okay how about… Smoker the… Big Dog?” She was fucking with him now, her pinky shifting over his. 

“Really?” he gazed at her. 

“Being picky? Fine, what aboooout Grumpy Face?” Their pinky fingers entwined, his heart beating faster. The smile on her lips was widening, warm and bright. If he was actually dead, that was okay. If he was alive, even better. Better than better. All he could wish for.

“Tashigi,” he muttered, leaning closer. He’d had a lot of time to think about all the lines he never crossed that felt utterly meaningless with this second chance. A second chance. 

“How about-” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

“That’s the epithet you wa-mmph!” He pressed his lips against hers gently before pulling away. She gazed at him, eyes wide before grabbing his face and kissing him again, harder. Their fingers locked, palms together, her air his and his air hers. 

When they broke apart, she smiled at him and it knocked the wind out of his lungs. Her eyes focused back on his lips and then suddenly reached into her pocket. 

“I forgot! I was going to give you these earlier.” In her hand were two cigars. If he hadn’t kissed her already, he would have then. She lit them for him as he placed them in his mouth. Smoke floated into the air as the first rays of the sun spread across the sky.

“Tashigi,” he muttered as she leaned her head against him. “It’s good to be home.”