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Reiju isn't sure what prompted her to do this, to look through old boxes and old memories with the guise of cleaning up this storage room in case the space was ever needed.
Maybe it was a sudden longing in her heart, a pull to revisit moments that'll never come back, to reminisce the old days, the warmth of gentle hands and golden hair like the sun.
Or maybe it was the need for a reminder of how despicable Judge is. After years of following his orders she's afraid she might be starting to forget it.
Point is, no one in Germa would ever need this space and she was well aware of that.
The staff had their own quarters in a separate wing of the castle, the soldiers, when not inside lab tubes, stayed in bunks outside, and the scientists had their own designated buildings too.
The royal family lived in the upper part of the missive castle, overseeing endless hallways that led into huge, mostly empty rooms that only served to collect dust and she couldn't even begin to count.
Reiju doesn't have to justify herself to anyone, but for her own peace of mind she needs an excuse, so she doesn't have to admit the life she's been living is taking its toll on her.
This room is one she's been to many times before. She knows what's being kept inside of it despite never daring to touch anything during her previous visits.
It's full of Sora's old belongings, with books covering a set of shelves, trinkets filling scratched cabinets and boxes messily piled up in multiple stacks in a corner.
Previously, Reiju had just sat in the middle of the room, atop an old rug and with her legs tucked at her side, admiring the paintings that hung on the walls.
Sora had painted all of them.
During his childhood, Reiju had seen Sora work on some, on the days her weakened body had allowed her to get out of bed and sit in front of a weasel. Reiju had watched her closely, following the gracious movements of her hand across a blank canvas, which slowly and precisely created beautiful sceneries.
Even now, Reiju's amazed at how many paintings there are. Some are finished, with vibrant colors splattered in abstract shapes or in the form of serene and gorgeous landscapes, while others had been abandoned before the last paintbrush strokes could've covered the remaining lineart.
Reiju can see where color meets thin, faded lines, can see what her mother's vision had been, but reluctantly recognizes they'll never turn into a fully fleshed out piece.
They trace a melancholic parallel to Sora's own life, so colorful and vivid before turning into monochrome nothingness, dead and forgotten.
But Reiju didn't forget.
Today, she's sitting on that same old rug, but for once, the paintings aren't the main subject of her attention.
There are discolored boxes and worn out suitcases surrounding her. Filled with journals, clothes, and mementos from islands they'd been to and that had been purchased before Judge's orders to exterminate the land.
Sora'd never liked the violence employed by her husband, had always been vocal about it, but her frail voice never reached Judge's ears. Furthermore, against an army of mass produced artificial soldiers, there wasn't much else she could've done other than to send disappointed glares at Judge's back and save a small piece of the culture to try keeping it from being completely eradicated.
Observing all the objects in the room, it comes as a surprise to Reiju that Judge hadn't thrown everything away, nor demanded them to be destroyed.
It made her wonder if Judge and Sora finally had something in common, if the man had also wanted to keep his memories alive; the last remnant of humanity in him, a last thread connecting him to the past, to a time where he might've actually felt something for his late wife.
Reiju scoffed bitterly. How naïve of her to even consider that.
Humanity has never been a part of Judge's character. He's always been an unscrupulous and narcissistic bastard. It isn't a stretch to assume he'd simply been afraid of dumping everything in some distant island, wary that the locals would caught up to how degenerate and unethical Germa and its inhabitants are, and spread the news to the entire world.
However, that didn't explain why he didn't get everything destroyed instead. The staff would've never questioned him.
If he was concerned about his image, about the minimal chance of some gossip escaping, he could've used the excuse of being a grieving husband that couldn't take the constant reminder of a loved one's loss. Could've made a somber speech, say he should honor his position as Germa's king and move the kingdom forward instead of being tied to the past.
If Judge had been anyone else, anyone that had an ounce of sympathy or affection within them, any of those options could've happened. But as things stand, Reiju doubts Judge ever had any good intentions or consideration towards Sora, knows he never care enough about her to spare a second thought to the things she'd once cherished.
It pains Reiju to see all of her mother's belongings stashed away like this, collecting dust and forgotten.
Thankfully, her feelings are the complete opposite.
She misses Sora dearly. Thinks about her with less frequency than she'd like, all with having to follow through with the tasks assigned to her by Judge, but the memory of gentle touches and reassuring words never leave her mind.
Reiju draws in a deep breath and reaches for a box, surprised her hands aren't shaking, neither from anger towards Judge, grievance for Sora nor expectation for what she's about to find. Despite the lack of an outward display, all of these feelings still weight down in her heart.
With the lid of one of the boxes off, her hand brushes against a solid surface. A book, by the feel of it, larger than an average romance novel but smaller than an encyclopedia. It has some weight to it, the leather cover smooth to the touch but still sturdy. She pulls it out and her attention goes to the letters at the front, cursive and golden, custom-made, that spell out "Vinsmokes Photo Album".
She can't recall ever seeing it before, wonders if Sora used to keep it hidden in one of her drawers, away from Judge's disdainful gaze.
Turning it around in her grasp, Reiju can't tell if all the plastic sleeves inside are entirely filled with photographs. It sure seems to have plenty of space for a few dozens of them—the cover might be impressive on its own, but the book isn't thin by any means either. However, she's aware Sora couldn't have had enough time to fully complete it.
Curiosity piqued, she places the album on her lap and opens it on the first page.
Her eyes immediately land on a wedding photo, at the top center of the plastic sleeve as if to make a statement.
Sora is radiant, smiling in her beautiful white dress and holding a beautiful arrangement of flowers. At her side, with their arms entwined, Judge stares at the camera with a blank expression. His features are less severe and less hardened than what Reiju's used to, but the happiness emanating from Sora finds no match against his stoic posture.
It isn't farfetched to imagine this was one of the last occasions where Sora truly felt happy around her husband. Reiju tries not to let her mind wander too much, thinking of what awaited Sora in the future, but her grip on the book tightens unconsciously, her fingertips turning white. Just a small glimpse of it is dreadful, a fairy tale turned into a nightmare.
She decides to focus on the photo placed below it and right at that moment her pain is dulled by the warmth that overcomes her.
Sora's in what looks like an infirmary bed, with rail guards on the sides and an IV tube connected to her arm. There's a smile on her face once again, albeit it clearly shows some weariness. In her arms, four identical babies, impressively held all at the same time and with all the care in the world. A three-year-old Reiju is standing by her side, smiling just as wide. Judge is nowhere to be seen.
Reiju remembers asking to hold her brothers right after the picture was taken, remembers Sora helping her with each one of them and the way the four babies stared curiously at her before breaking into toothless smiles of their own.
She flips the page and a pattern starts. Multiple pictures of Sora with her kids follow, where she's either feeding, cradling or playing with them. There are some of Reiju observing them in their cribs as well, the look on her face a testament of how endeared she was of them, of how she couldn't wait for them to grow up so they could play and run around the castle together.
And, as Reiju expected, Judge is missing from all of them.
Amidst her reminiscing, she doesn't notice the door to the room opening, doesn't hear the sound of it clicking shut nor the multiple steps approaching her. She's only made aware of her brothers' presence when Ichiji stands in front of her, and Niji and Yonji lean down over her shoulders, trying to see what she has in her hands.
"What's this?" Yonji asks, leaning even more forward so he can get a better look.
Reiju doesn't jump in surprise at their arrival, she's been trained not to let these things show, and suppresses the urge to snap the book closed and cradle it protectively in her arms. Acting like that would only cause the three to get more curious and she doesn't feel like risking Niji snatching it from her hands and ripping some of its pages off.
"It's an old photobook." She reluctantly mumbles.
"Oh?" Comes Niji's curious voice and she can see one of Yonji's brows raising from the corner of her eyes, from where he's practically perched over her shoulder.
From the aloof tone Niji uses, Reiju can tell he wants to find something to make fun of, be it her uncharacteristic sentimentality over the past or the tattered state of the items scattered around her. But she doesn't have time to preemptively tell him to shut up nor to ask what the three of them want, as Ichiji forcefully pulls the other two by their arms and makes them sit down next to her.
"Let us look at it too." Contrary to Njiji's, Ichiji's voice doesn't carry any particular emotion in it. He doesn't sound particularly interested either, but Reiju doesn't really expect anything else from him.
The four of them are now sitting close together in a half circle and Reiju's reminded of one of the pictures she just saw: all of them, Sanji included, sitting on a fluffy white rug, with multiple chewing toys and wooden building blocks around them.
Sanji was chewing on a giraffe, while Reiju and Ichiji were entirely focused on the stack of colorful blocks in front of them, brows furrowed and all. Niji and Yonji had their own stack of blocks, but theirs had been toppled over and they seemed to be cheering it on, with huge grins on their faces and fists raised high in the air, like their objective had always been to build the highest tower only to destroy it.
Sora isn't in the picture and Reiju assumes she was the one who took it, a candid moment where she was observing her children playing together.
With a sigh, Reiju removes the album from her lap and rearranges it on the floor, in a way they can all have a perfect view of it. She watches as her brothers all lean slightly forward to take a better look at it, her eyebrow raised, but thinks nothing of it.
The first photo Yonji points at seems to be from around the time the quadruplets were four and Reiju, seven. They're surrounding Sora on her bed while she reads them a fairy tale. There are stars in their eyes and their mouths are wide open in wonder as they look up at her, hang up on every word she's saying. Sora's signature gentle smile graces her lips.
"Given our expressions it seems like we were enjoying the story." Ichiji comments and Niji sniggers at his side.
"We look so stupid!"
Reiju ignores the urge to roll her eyes and silently turns the page.
Ichiji, Niji and Yonji show no reaction to the images that follow other than to nod their heads, as if simply acknowledging the moments shown and agreeing that they indeed happened to them in a distant past. They seem indifferent to what they see, recognizing themselves in the pictures but clearly feeling no particular attachment to them.
The book is in chronological order and the further they get in their exploration the more frail Sora becomes.
It settles in Reiju's gut that the photographs are a real time documentation of her mother's deteriorating state and she has no time to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine at the realization.
With dreadful eyes, she rapidly scans the photos in front of her, observing how there was no more color to Sora's skin and no more glow to her hair. She got thinner, the bags under her eyes deepened and the shine in her eyes deemed. Her smile became strained, though it never fully left her chapped lips.
What completely vanished from the pictures, though, were the three brothers currently sitting next to Reiju, leaving only Sanji and herself as the focus of Sora's shots from there onwards.
To Reiju, the time frame is unmistakable, but the same can't be said about her brothers. The three of them seem absolutely disoriented, confusedly staring at the book.
"What happened here, why aren't we in any of the pictures anymore?" Niji asks with an almost imperceptible raise of his eyebrow and an edge to his voice Reiju doesn't recall ever hearing before.
Despite all her talk about her brothers being emotionless monsters, Reiju finds herself unable to break the subject to them right away. She knows they won't be upset at what she says, they'll either mock the situation or ask more questions about it, and it's the later that unsettles her.
There's no way for her to escape this, no way to sugar coat it in hope their reactions will be a third, less draining option, and dwelling on it for too long will only make her more uneasy.
"That's the time Judge started to fully experiment on you and intensify your training regimen." She goes for the stone cold truth and watches as the third option materializes right in front of her.
Ichiji, Niji and Yonji scan the pages like she'd done just moments ago, flipping them back and forth to look at every picture again with their brows furrowed so deeply their noses were scrunching slightly.
"But Sanji trained with us," Ichiji reasoned, "Why is he still in the pictures?"
Of course, the questions still came. Her brothers might not care about events that happened to them, but seeing Sanji, the so-called failure, managing to juggle harsh training and visiting their sick mother certainly intrigued them.
At least they weren't making a scene out of it and hollering uncontrollably.
As to answering the question, Reiju has no idea of how much information she should dump on them, can't tell if they're genuinely interested or if they're trying to find a breach to mock Sanji. Regardless of what it is, it's best she continues being as direct as possible while trying to keep most of her resentment from coming forth, last she'll inadvertently fuel their more cruel side.
"Sanji always found a way to sneak out after Judge's sessions, you three didn't." She doesn't expect them to feel guilty over it, but she still send each one of them a cold glare while saying it.
Surprisingly, her intentions were perfectly translated as her brothers all averted their eyes, looking at everything in the room but at her stern face.
Enough time passes without a single word being uttered that Reiju nudges Ichiji with her knee, "I'll put the book away if you don't want to look at it anymore."
Reiju finds herself in a state of disbelief when Ichiji jumps at her touch and at the sound of her voice, like he's been caught off guard, and her astonishment raises tenfold when the small commotion startles Niji and Yonji as well, causing them to react similarly to Ichiji.
It was as if they'd been lost in thought—as weird as that may sound when referring to mindless killing machines—before she brought them back to their senses.
Ichiji blankly stares at Reiju, lips closed in a thin line and eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, and she doesn't have a clue about what he's thinking. She asks her question again, though through a different approach this time, by pointing at the open book laid in from of them and raising an inquiring eyebrow.
In perfect sync, Ichiji, Niji and Yonji turn their attention back to the photos in lieu of an answer, and Reiju sighs, finally flipping to the next page.
"I know you said he did all he could to visit her," Niji comments in jest, pointing at the first picture that has only Sanji and Sora in it, "But why does it look like he ran through a rainstorm and fell in the mud while being chased by a dog in this one?"
Reiju stares at the photo in question. Sora is propped up on a bed, her bony hands holding an empty lunch box, and Sanji stands next to her, hair matted and clothes dirty. They're both smiling as wide as their lips allow them.
She turns to squint at Niji, waiting for the punchline to drop.
She remembers that day. She hadn't dared leave the castle, but Sanji told her all about his little adventure later, and now she wonders if her other three brothers had been lurking somewhere, observing Sanji and laughing at his predicament from the shadows.
But there's no sign of recollection on any of their faces, no slight upturn of their lips indicating she's walking right into their trap.
Flatly, she replies, "It's because that's exactly what happened."
The three turn to her so fast they could've gotten whiplash, and at this point Reiju doesn't know if she should laugh in incredulity or roll her eyes.
Her brothers have been acting weird, or better yet, weirder than usual, since they stepped into this room and the urge to ask them if Judge performed yet another experiment on them is getting harder to ignore—though she can't think of any reason as to why Judge would want his perfect soldiers to seem as vulnerable as deers caught in the headlights.
They haven't done anything too out of the ordinary yet, making it safe to assume nothing alarming has been performed on them, so Reiju repeats the same story Sanji told her many years ago.
"They really cared about each other." Is all Ichiji says before they resume looking at the contents of the book.
There's a picture of Sanji on his tiptoes next, reaching over to a windowsill. He's holding what appears to be sunflower seeds in his small hands and birds are perched near him, feeding from his outstretched fingers.
Sora's on her bed once again, looking over at him with her eyes closed and a hand over her mouth, undoubtedly trying to stiffen a giggle, or a sob, over the adorable scene.
Reiju doesn't make any comments about it, and neither do her brothers, but before she flips the page she catches sight of the way the three are slightly shaking their heads, half smiles gracing their lips.
At one point, the collection of photos come to a stop, the remaining pages of the album being completely empty.
"Is this all?" Yonji asks, picking the book up and turning it around, shaking it slightly, as if he expects a secret stash of photos to fall to the ground.
"This was mom's album," Reiju explains, "She was the one taking most of the pictures and arranging them. After she passed no one took on that role and it was stored away along with the rest of her belongings."
The way Yonji places the album down is almost solemn, accompanied by the way his and his brothers' heads lower as they take on a downcast posture.
"Can you take us to her grave?" Ichiji requests not long after that without raising his head. "To my knowledge, it's somewhere around the castle, isn't it?"
Reiju takes in a breath and exhales deeply. "Follow me." She gets up and leads them out of the room.
They're almost out of the castle when Niji breaks the silence, "Maybe we should bring some flowers…" He scratches at the back of his head, in a gesture that Reiju interprets as awkwardness and inadequacy. "Which ones did she like?"
Reiju stops in her tracks, pensive. She could commend Niji on being nice and respectful for once, but the moment doesn't call for teasing and she replies calmly, "She loved each and every one Sanji gave her. I don't think we have flowers growing at the gardens anymore, but we should be able to find some along the way."
After this small stop, the walk to Sora's grave is a silent one and Reiju has to hold back her tears when they finally reach their destination.
The grave is in a secluded area of the castle, behind storage sheds and against the wall that separates the royal family's grounds from the rest of the kingdom. Reiju believes it's the farthest possible nook Judge could find that wasn't out in the soldiers' training fields.
It's a place away from the main chambers, that receives no visitors other than herself, a place the staff doesn't have to maintain and that Judge can ignore exists.
Wild grass have grown over the stone tiles of the path since the last time she visited, the vegetation around it now reaching over her calves and the small flower garden, that was once carefully kept, back when she was younger and didn't have to constantly leave on missions, has been overgrown by weeds.
Without much to choose from, she plucks some dandelions and thistles for her and her brothers, and consoles herself with the knowledge that Sora would've appreciated the intention and gesture more than what was being gifted to her.
Unaware of her disappointment, Niji holds a dandelion to eye level, observing it closely, "It's the color of Sanji's hair."
"And this one is the color of Reiju's!" Yonji adds, shaking the few thistles in his hand from side to side, wildly and almost triumphantly.
Ichiji nods approvingly, "Hm, mother would like these."
Reiju looks at them like it's the first time she's seeing them and a tear slips from her eye. She's quick to swipe it with the tips of her fingers while turning her face away from them. "Yeah…" She easily agrees.
The tombstone is covered by vines and dirt, Reiju notices as they approach it, and Sora's picture engraved in it is blurry, weathered by the elements. Reiju fetches a handkerchief from one of the pockets in her dress to clean it up a little.
Yonji is the first one to kneel down and place his flowers over the engraved stone, "I'm sorry, mom, for not turning out like you wanted us to. We should've spent more time with you."
As soon as he stands back up, it's Niji's turn, "We should've treated Sanji better too."
"We owe him an apology." Ichiji is the last one to pay his respects. He kneels at the grave just like his brothers did, except, after placing down his flowers, he extends one of his hands, caressing Sora's picture that is embedded there. "But first," He says, standing up and turning to leave, motioning for Niji and Yonji to follow him, "Judge needs to pay."
Ichiji's words send a shiver down Reiju's spine and she stands there, motionless and holding her breath as her brothers leave.
It's only minutes later that Reiju recomposes herself and runs back towards the castle's main buildings. She's at a loss at what to do and her first instinct is to call Sanji, tell him something has changed. Despite everything that's happened in the past, and recently as well, he still deserves to know.
On her way to her room she walks past the training fields, where she knows Judge's testing the new batch of soldiers, and catches a glimpse of an intense fight taking place.
The soldiers are all standing in a perfect line, waiting for a command from their king that never comes.
Reiju's sure Judge would've had no problem shouting for their help, but in the situation he's in she can see he isn't able to do so.
Yonji has him pinned to a wall with his extendable hand, holding his neck tightly and effectively keeping any words from leaving his mouth. Niji and Ichiji alternate between unleashing electrified punches and explosives blows upon him.
It wouldn't surprise Reiju if Judge wasn't conscious anymore, hell, he's probably not even alive at this point. Even standing a safe distance away, she can still see the magnitude of the light strikes and explosions racking through the man's body.
Nevertheless, she doesn't stay there to confirm her assumptions, Judge's fate isn't worth her time, and simply continues on her way towards the castle's chambers.
Reiju shakily sits at her vanity desk, a yellow den den mushi with curly eyebrows and a cigarette stick hanging from its mouth placed in front of her.
She'd been afraid Sanji would reject her call, but was relieved when the opposite happened.
After exchanging greetings, she wastes no time addressing the subject he's called him for and tells him all about what's transpired with their brothers.
Sanji lets her talk without interruption, but he's skeptical about what he hears, uninterested, even, and rightfully so, but that starts changing when Reiju describes what happened during their visit to Sora's grave.
"They said they should apologize to you." Reiju retells and she sounds choked up, like it's a plea leaving her lips, and it's enough to render Sanji speechless.
And amidst their silence is when Ichiji, Niji and Yonji walk into the room.
In a split second, Reiju's in front of them, holding them by the door with outstretched arms to keep them from saying anything to Sanji and ruining the vulnerable space that's just been established. Behind her, the forgotten den den mushi yells out in a gravelly voice; in Reiju's hurry, the chair she'd been sitting at tipped over and the noise undoubtedly startled Sanji, who's now frantically asking if she's ok.
There's a question in her eyes as she looks up at her brothers and Ichiji's quick to understand and answer it.
"Judge's dead."
The yells from the den den mushi come to a halt and it doesn't take a scientist to figure out Sanji heard what Ichiji said.
"We wanted to put that old iron helmet on him too…" Yonji comments offhandedly and he sounds slightly disappointed, almost like he's pouting.
"That bastard died too quickly, though, so after getting the helmet from the dungeons we just finished smashing his face with it instead." Niji adds, grinning viciously and looking as deranged as Reiju expects him to. Except, she feels no repulse towards him and no disgust at what he said.
Still in a state of astonishment, however, she doesn't react when Ichiji gently pushes her arms down and walks farther into the room.
"I'm sorry." He says and Reiju holds her breath, waiting for the worse.
A minute passes in complete silence before Sanji's voice travels through the speaker and the line goes quiet again, "I'll be right back."
At the Sunny, Sanji rushes out onto the deck from the galley.
"Luffy!" He calls out for his captain, breathing heavily.
Luffy jumps from where he was sitting on the figurehead and lands in front of him with a rubbery slap of his limbs. There's an easy smile on his lips, the one he reserves for when a nakama wants to ask something of him and he intends on giving them a positive answer even before a word leaves their mouth. Sanji wonders if he's somehow sensed what he's here for.
If it'd been months prior, Sanji would've hesitated, pondering if it'd be worth to delay their journey in favor of doing something for himself. Now, however, he's learned to trust his crew, learned they wish for nothing but his happiness and this is it. His heart longs for what was robbed of him as a child and he'll grab at this opportunity with teeth and nails.
His voice doesn't waver when he utters his request, "Captain, can we please make a detour?"
Luffy's smile widens impossibly, reassuringly, and he shouts at Nami and Jinbe to turn the ship around.