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He looks happy.
She couldn't help but steal a glance at the Kid Pirates, their vice captain still in her thoughts while confident she wasn't in his. She told herself that the only reason he sought her was because he had no other choice. She held nothing against him for it. Solitude was more than enough to make someone foolish, and it had done the same to her, and yet even while knowing that... She had grown attached, and she wondered if he felt the same.
Her gaze turned away before she could notice that he'd glanced as well. While she had been comfortable with him at the teahouse, he could tell that it was a different sort of act. He wanted to know what she was like when given the space to express herself. Wanted to see if she would ever show those sides of herself to him. It was a useless sort of hope, one of those thoughts that only served to be comforting rather than compelling, and yet he couldn't push it away.
He remembered the look on her face whenever she held his between her hands, gazing at him with pure, unadulterated desire along with genuine attraction. Her lips were warm next to his own. Chest soft against his firm muscles. Her weight felt perfect in his lap, thighs free to sink his touch into, knees lightly pressing to his sides as she embraced his broad shoulders... He looked away before his thoughts could go too far, all too aware that they'd never do those things again.
More than her touch, which was still heavily on his mind, he was confused by her kindness. Why she chose to invite him in when he was already a wanted man. A murderer both on the seas and in Wano. She gave him a gentle smile, a warm, quiet place to stay, handmade refreshments without a single ask for payment. He took her at face value for the sake of staying distant. She wouldn't have answered any of his questions even if he asked.
Everything she'd done had been on a whim. She took a chance on Kamazo, guessing that he was under Orochi and assuming he'd be foolish enough to leak secrets to a woman. It wasn't until she saw his weapons and could observe his mannerisms that she connected the dots. Her heart bled for him, that day. The only thing she wanted was to ease the weight on his mind, even if just by an ounce.
But he had found his true companions once again. He had no use for her superficial comfort. It was only then that she began to question whether they ever should've met, a rather belated sense of shame beginning to creep through her thoughts. Would he really have been that lost without her? Or would he have focused more on his crew without her there to take up his thoughts? Was there something more she could've done, more information she could've gathered to help the raid go more smoothly, and had she missed that opportunity while fooling around with him...?
Her thoughts were only interrupted by the sound of fireworks above, her attention turning to the sky just in time to see the vibrant colors covering the stars. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She found it difficult to manage anything more. The Flower Capital was filled with some of the most wildly energetic pirates in the world, and yet she couldn't find the strength to match their light. If anything, it made her feel more out of place, wondering why she chose to take her Captain's invite in the first place.
Killer glanced at her again, unsure of what he was looking for and being wholly caught off guard by what he saw. The woman that dared to embrace a twisted man like him, confident and brazen enough to deepen that connection into touch, overwhelming to the point her presence could be felt on every corner of Onigashima, was standing alone in a way that would tug at anybody's heart. She quietly held the sleeve of her kimono as she gazed up at the stars, taking a subtle bite on the inside of her lip to try and gather her scattered thoughts.
She was alone in a sea of people, alone surrounded by her crew, alone without even herself inside her heart. It felt as if the time had stilled in her clouded eyes. "Give me a minute," he quickly excused from his crew, making his way through the dense crowds until she was within his reach. She was too transfixed on the fireworks to notice that he'd come so near. He looked at her for a moment, asking himself what exactly he intended to do before standing right by her side.
He watched a couple fireworks burst and fizzle while trying to emulate the same sights that she saw. When her head was tilted so far up, it was easy to let the bystanders fade away. His gaze drifted back to her to see if she'd noticed him yet, lifting his arm to rest lightly around her waist once he saw she hadn't. Her posture stiffened beneath him. She glanced over to see his signature helmet in place of the bandages she'd memorized the feel of, the cold sides of his handguard pressing to her hip as he pretended not to watch her face.
Her lips parted for just a moment, only to let out nothing but a quiet sigh before pressing back shut again. She let her head tilt towards him until it rested on his familiar shoulder. His laughter spilled through his mask as he brought her closer to his side. Both of their gestures, however different in subtlety, were the same answer to a question that had always hung in the air.
I would've chosen you regardless.
Nobody was forcing them, then. He chose to approach her out of everything he could've done. She chose to accept his time and company even while knowing full well the weight that it carried. She could feel butterflies in her chest the longer she stayed beneath his arm, the nervous energy that came with being beside the one she cared for starting to replace the painful anxiety she had faced before. It was a warm, buzzing sort of feeling, her hands loosely clasping together to keep from reaching for his. He wouldn't have minded if she had.
His crew could only stare in shock at what was happening before their eyes, with their vice captain making a rather ballsy move on what they only knew to be a stranger. Not only that, but it had worked. Anyone with eyes could see how smitten she was with him, how the very tips of her ears had blushed a vibrant shade of red, the corners of her mouth struggling to stay down as she tried to keep her gaze from him. She wanted to see his face. Longed for the way his sharp blue eyes would focus on hers. She felt foolish in a way, already knowing the kind of reaction she'd get if she mentioned it aloud, but the thoughts still felt comforting however immature they might've been.
On the other side, it was impossible to tell what was on his mind. Even those that knew him had trouble trying to figure out what he'd done. Why he was showing such a sudden, confident interest in someone of a different crew after so long spent on his own. He held her in spite of what it could've meant. In spite of all the unwritten rules and strained façades they were both tired of keeping up. He wasn't shy to admit he cared deeply for her, at least within his own thoughts, though just like her, he would never say those words out loud. Something that deeply intimate would only cause more harm than good.
And so the couple only stood there, silent, staring at the sky. Her frame was warm against his own. She could feel each rise and fall of his broad chest with every breath. She wished there was more she could do, a way to capture and replay that tender moment thousands of times, but was that fleeting, forbidden feeling not what made it so special? She knew that she would likely never have the chance to speak with him again, much less see beneath his mask or have him hold her in his arms. He held no hope for being able to reunite after parting ways. They were resigned to their quiet, bittersweet ending, a trick of fate that would stay embedded in their paths for the rest of time.
"Kamazo," she started as the show moved towards its end, resting her hand over his own as her thumb slowly traced his scars. "Thank you."
Those three soft words held everything she couldn't say. That, even though she had been the one to provide for him, she was grateful for his continued visits and acceptance nonetheless. Grateful that he'd chosen to watch the fireworks however finite they might've been. Her use of that name wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a slip of her tongue or some kind of playful tease. It was a warning, a forlorn, reluctant one that they both knew was for the best.
This is as far as we can go.
The only thing he could do was laugh even as she bore her heart to him. The sound didn't do so much as make her shift. Her thumb continued to press warmly against his skin, her build still resting against his with every ounce of her faith and trust. "Don't mention it," is all he said, shelving each and every last thought he had to respond.
For all they'd learned about the other, the fact remained that it had only been a few months. A sum of weeks that they had truly spent in the other's company, offset by grueling days of paranoia and regret. He had no right to pry further. To ask that she call him by his name when it would only deepen their graves. Their only choice was to stand there and savor their ignorance for what little time they still had left.
The last firework came and went. Cheers filled the air as the festival continued on. He let her go, her posture straightening once again as his arm fell down to his side. They shared a single, silent look amidst the endless mess of noise, the very tips of her fingers curling inwards to her palm once she saw his mask. "Enjoy the festival," she bid with a slight smile, already turning away before he had the chance to respond.
She could hear his laughter through the noise as he walked away.