Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nico Robin may have been the eighth person to arrive back at the Saobody Archipelago, but that also meant she wasn’t the last.

That honor would go to their beloved captain.

But it meant she had time. Time to leisurely take in the feeling of the warm sun on her skin after spending so long bundled under layers of clothing. Time to converse with the others after two long years apart. Time to leisurely, for a lack of better term, take her time before Luffy thrusted them headlong into another new adventure.

She couldn’t wait.

So Robin took the remaining moments of calm to unwind. She hadn’t brought much back with her: a few articles of clothing, some provisions, a list of emergency contacts and shelters in case anything went south, a few books. Oh, the books. They had been graciously gifted to her from Sabo and Koala before she left the Revolutionaries. She had been ecstatic as a little girl when the two presented her with several tomes she had never gotten the chance to read before. The Incomplete History of Fish-Man Island , Mysteries of the Seas , and even Rulers of Arabasta . It had taken all of her willpower not to crack them open right then and there. 

They had done well to keep it a secret from her. Perhaps they had learned just as much from her as she had from them. But for now, Robin would put them away in the Thousand Sunny’s library. There was no other place she’d rather read them.

The door opened smoothly and soundlessly under her touch. It seemed Franky’s craftsmanship had held up during their absence, not that she had any doubt about his skills. Robin breathed in deeply, taking in the sight of her favorite place on the Sunny. The scent of parchment and ink welcomed her home, and she felt the last dredges of tension ease from her shoulders. 

However, the thin layer of dust on the shelves and tables indicated that she was the first person to enter this room since their forced vacation. Odd, considering Chopper and Nami arrived before her, but not unlikely. Chopper was more likely to store his belongings in the sickbay, while Nami had just gotten back from shopping.

Robin placed her new books on the table in the center of the room. She wanted to lay them all out before her before deciding on a proper home for them. A book’s placement couldn’t be a careless decision, and so the crew left most of the organization of the library to her. She had just picked up Rulers of Arabasta from her pile when she saw something from the corner of her eyes: a book, sitting innocently on the table, as if someone had placed it there for later only to get distracted and forget to put it back on the shelf.

It was in her hands before she even realized she had reached out to grab it, almost as if it had compelled her to do so. The book was a hardcover, and fashioned out of a matte black leather. Its size was standard, uniform. It could easily blend in with any book at the market, disappearing between the crevices of more extravagantly decorated books. But that mass produced style might as well have been a beacon for someone like Robin. The only design of note was a lock with a five-petaled keyhole stamped into the cover. Curved around the lock was a long, winding chain. The book was so unassuming in appearance that its title was almost jarring.

The Book of 얀샋ㄷ요무

It was written across the front and spine in plain, white ink. There was no description of what the book could be about on its back cover either. The last word was unintelligible to Robin, written in a language she had never seen. The promise of the unknown sent a thrill through her. But it was also terrifying. 

A language she didn’t know? What were the implications of that? Could this be related to the Void Century? As Robin pondered this dilemma, and the longer she held the book in her hands, she began to feel it: a low, quiet hum; felt, more than it was heard. All books were special, but there was something about this book that she had never felt with any other.

It seemed almost alive.

But how did it get here? It was clear that no one else had been in this room for months. The grainy feeling of dust on her fingers was proof of that. If Rayleigh had left it for her he would have mentioned it before leaving, or at least given her some sort of hint. It occurred to Robin that she could, just, open the book, and get her answers right here and now. 

She brushed her hand over its face, wiping away the last remnants of its solitude. As her fingers closed over the edge of its cover, the low hum increased to a high ringing in her ears, placing an almost physical pressure inside her head. 

Robin exhaled, harshly, and had to physically hold the book away from her. No, she would bring this up with the others first. If this book contained some sort of trap, it would do her no good to fall into it alone. If anything, she was being paranoid, but her gut instincts had rarely been wrong in the past. If something were to happen to whoever opened this book, the rest of the Straw Hat Pirates would be in a position to handle it. Despite her trepidation, a small smile graced her face. Robin knew her friends would always protect her.

Holding the book carefully, Robin exited the library. She could get back to organizing her other treasures once this mystery was dealt with. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Brook had just arrived, leaping off a flying fish and landing onto the deck with all his usual grace. Which was all for naught, because Nami kicked him into the railing before he could finish asking to see her unmentionables. At least his...sense of humor hadn’t changed.

All that meant was to wait for Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji to arrive. Though, perhaps Robin could ask the others about the book before they arrived. The Monster Trio weren’t exactly the scholarly-

“Hey! You guys!” A familiar, lovely, voice called from above.

Or they could arrive and interrupt her thoughts. Luffy did tend to march at the beat of his own drum, after all.

Greetings were exchanged in a flurry of activity as the trio landed on the ship, and the Straw Hat Pirates were finally together again. The book was almost forgotten in the cradle of her arms as her world started to turn after two, long, long years away from her friends. Her family. 

The next few moments happened too quickly for her to get more than a few words in. The Kuja Pirates provided an opening for them to get away from the Marines, Luffy revealed that he was friends with the Snake Princess, Franky removed the buoyancy pouch keeping their ship above water, and suddenly, finally, the Straw Hat Pirates were setting sail for Fish-Man Island.

Robin gazed up at the sun, its warm rays already steadily getting farther away from them. All manners of sea creatures swam around them from small schools of fish to large, curling eels. The Thousand Sunny avoided them all as She sailed through an underwater forest of mangrove roots stretching all the way from the ocean floor. There wouldn’t be much besides the local wildlife at this point that could divert their attention.

“If I may,” Robin started, and suddenly eight pairs of eyes were on her. If Robin was opening a line of conversation, the others would listen. She smiled, briefly, “I found this in the library. I wanted to ask, but is this book familiar with anyone?” she said, presenting the book to the group. There was a buzzing current beneath her fingertips, almost as if the book was scolding her for bringing attention to it.

Zoro, who had been sitting with his back against the starboard side, opened his solitary eye. He took one cursory glance at the book, and then shut his eye again with a soft grunt. That was answer enough.

“ The Book of ...uh...what language is that?” Chopper asked. He cocked his head to the side. Cute.

“Well, I’ve super never seen it before!” 

“Neither have I! Not that I have eyes to see! Yohohoho! Skull Joke!”

Nami brought a hand to her chin, resting her elbow in the palm of her other hand as she pondered Robin’s query.  “Can you read that, Robin?” 

“Yeah, what does it say?” Usopp squinted his eyes, as if it would help him make sense of the puzzle in front of them. Luffy crossed his arms and sucked his lips in, also at a loss.

“Whatever it says, I’m sure our beautiful Robi-geh!” Sanji was overcome with another nosebleed and collapsed on the lawn. Hopefully he got that under control soon.

Robin shook her head, continuing on as Chopper tended to Sanji, “I’m not sure what it says either. However, this book doesn’t seem normal. There’s a certain...energy to it that I can’t place,” her gaze scanned over the group. Zoro was now giving the book his full attention, single eye narrowed in concentration. He stood up, leaning against the railing in a deliberately casual movement. 

“It feels alive,” Zoro’s hand rested on the hilt of Sandai Kitetsu. There was a small moment of relief, knowing that Zoro had come to the same conclusion as her. Yet a knot formed in her stomach with that, knowing that Zoro had come to the same conclusion as her.

Luffy didn’t seem to share Zoro’s caution, because he was bounding over to Robin on rubbery legs. He wrapped his arms around her several times from behind. “Well you know what that means! Let’s open it!” He didn’t wait for a response as he plucked the book from her grip, unwinding himself from Robin to bounce to the center small circle of pirates that had formed. His enthusiasm was momentarily halted as his hand lingered on the cover. Ah, he must have felt it too. Luffy’s eyes sparkled and his body visibly shivered in excitement at the sensation. “Whoa! It feels tingly!” he laughed, squirming in place, as if an invisible force was tickling him. 

Suddenly, his body stilled and Luffy stared down at the book with that unwavering gaze of his. His smile was ever present on his face, yet he was clearly serious. It was always a bit of an uncomfortable feeling, being on the receiving end of that look. The way he looked at you, as if he could see into the very depths of your soul. Robin wondered if that book could feel it as well. 

“Alright!” Luffy cheered as he threw open the cover of the book. Robin felt herself sucking in a breath, back straightening. Everyone else tensed as well. You could cut the tension with a knife.

And nothing happened. 

A collective breath was released from the group. She even heard Usopp chuckle weakly, embarrassed at getting caught up in the moment. But she couldn't tear her gaze away from the book. Was that really it? She could see the upside down letters of the book, and it actually appeared to be their language. She briefly regretted letting Luffy take it from her, as it meant she couldn’t actually read its contents from where she stood several paces away. 

Luffy pouted, already bored now that the book didn’t contain some fantastical treasure. “Boo, nothing ha—”

“Wait.” 

There was the familiar sound of blades unsheathing. Robin couldn’t feel the invisible pressure that Zoro surely felt. But she didn’t need to. There was a physical change in the book now. The letters were running, as if the ink used to write its story had never quite dried. They sank into each other, blurring and swirling together as the once pristine paper was swallowed in an inky blackness—whatever written on those pages now lost to oblivion. The book was suddenly a bottomless fountain: ink cascading off the pages and dripping onto Luffy’s hands and arms. Luffy dropped it, leaping back and into a defensive posture.

The book tumbled to the ground, but the sudden drop didn’t seem to deter it. The ink bubbled up, rising slowly. The fountain of ink grew in size and before long the book was drowned in its own making. She couldn’t even see where the book lay on the ground anymore. The ink pulsated and bulged. Tendrils reached out, grasping, yearning for any contact, before getting sucked back into itself. It would stiffen, suddenly rigid, before expanding back into its semi-liquid state. She’d see the beginning of something before it collapsed back in on itself. It was like it couldn’t decide on what shape it wanted to be. 

Zoro stepped forward, securing Shusui in his maw. Brook and Usopp weren’t far behind, drawing their own weapons, though Usopp was taking cover from behind Franky. Sanji had pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring how his arms quivered from his earlier blood loss. Even Robin had her arms crossed in her signature fighting stance. Nothing had happened yet, but already sweat trickled on her brow. 

Luffy suddenly held out an arm, stopping the advance of his crew. Not a word was said, but the command was clear. He took a few steps closer, until he was directly in front of the spewing fountain. It had grown to his height at this point. His gaze was level with whatever he saw within that abyss. Then, without warning, he thrusted his hand inside it. The mass convulsed, inky tendrils swarming over his arm.

“Luffy!” but he only held up his other arm behind him, and they were left helpless to watch. His eyes never left what he saw. It was like he was gazing at something none of them could see, something that only he understood the meaning of. The air pressure around them suddenly grew heavy. Robin felt like she couldn’t breathe, the wind being knocked out of her for a split second.

“Is this..!?” Nami started, breathless.

“Conqueror’s Haki,” Zoro finished for her.

Luffy’s arm flexed inside the amorphous mass, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched as he clearly searched for something. The mass hissed, the sound like water being poured onto a hot stove. Several tense moments passed, no one dropping their guard. It must have only been minutes, but it felt like hours before Luffy finally exclaimed, “There it is!” and he yanked.

Clasped in Luffy’s drenched hand was the unmistakable shape of another person’s, gripping onto Luffy’s like a lifeline. It wasn’t enough. The mass wasn't keen on just letting them go so easily, and tendrils swam up their exposed arm, towards their hand, swallowing them back in. There was a constant pull from both sides; a standstill. No one moved to help Luffy. No, he had decided this was his fight.

Luffy shifted his stance, planting his feet more firmly into the ground. Nearly his entire front was stained black but his gaze was undeterred. He gritted his teeth as he stretched his other arm impossibly deep into the convulsing blob. His muscles flexed, then tensed, his aim no doubt finding true. He wound his arm back, and, slowly but surely, he was making progress. Their hand came back into view, then their forearm, their elbow, and then there was a sudden pop as a white and black blur barrelled into Luffy’s chest. 

The force of their momentum had Luffy stumbling backwards, and he only just got a steadying hand on their back before he was literally knocked on his own. He hit the ground with a grunt. Robin only saw a flutter of white before the other person unceremoniously fell on top of Luffy. The ink they emerged from simply dropped to the ground in an oozing pool, as if it couldn’t hold itself together now that its captive was free. A puddle oozed across their once clean lawn, but the mess was the least of anyone’s worries.

Everyone’s gaze was on the mystery person as they slowly sat up, Luffy’s grip on their back easing to allow the movement. Robin couldn’t see their face as they stared down at Luffy, who was returning their gaze with a wide-eyed wonder. What did Luffy see in there, to make him invoke such an expression? 

They made to stand up, but faltered. They inclined their head downwards, and Robin followed the movement. Their hands were still clasped, the back of the stranger’s hand resting against Luffy’s scar.

They seemed to hesitate as they slowly retracted their hand. The back of their gloved hand ghosted across Luffy’s chest, the rings and chains adorning their fingers tinkling softly. It was an oddly intimate gesture, one that the stranger didn’t seem aware of, or simply didn’t care that anyone saw. Luffy didn’t even seem to notice it, his eyes still cast towards their face. Their hand disappeared beneath their white cloak a moment later. The stranger finally stood up, their body almost curling in on itself before they stood up straight. Where their movement had been slow and deliberate, Luffy’s was almost startling fast as he threw himself on his feet.

Standing on their own, Robin could see why she had trouble initially discerning their features. Their cloak had blended in with their hair and pale skin, and Robin had to blink a few times to differentiate where the lines ended and began. They tilted their head skywards, basking their face in the dwindling rays of the sun. They seemed unconcerned with the current situation, nor did they seem inclined to speak. The billion Beri jackpot they had found themselves in seemed to be that last thing on their mind.

A golden hairband tied their long, white hair into a high side ponytail on the right side of their head. They had two distinct black strands of hair that intermingled with their bangs, framing their delicate face. Their eyes were shut, and long eyelashes fanned out over their cheeks. Robin found she couldn’t tell what gender they were. Everything about their appearance was ambiguous, and Robin couldn’t help but feel like that was on purpose, like it was all done to make you second guess what you saw, and just as quickly disregard it.

Moving downwards, they were draped in a long, white cloak, although the bottom was torn and drenched in ink. It was as if its owner had been wading through a pool of ink, and, given what the Straw Hats had just witnessed, they very well might have. It wasn’t exactly in good shape, either–the very threads holding the cloak together were becoming unraveled. It was one good snag away from completely falling apart. The only thing holding it onto the person’s thin shoulders was a single, golden clasp. 

Beneath their heavy cloak, Robin could see they were wearing a fitted black suit, which seemed to have held up much better. Underneath their suit jacket was the first real splash of color on them. In place of a tie, glowing blue threads stretched across the expanse of their chest. Although the light itself was dim, it was in such contrast to the monochrome of their appearance that Robin had to look away. Their gloved hands rested idly by their sides. 

She could see now that brass rings adorned every knuckle, and a chain extended from their thumb, middle, and pinky rings, connecting to a lock that rested on the back of their hands. Their pants were imperceptibly stained from below the knees. They wore black loafers adorned with a brass trim.

Looking closer, much of their appearance appeared artificial. It was unnatural how still they were, the posture a touch too poised. The tips of their gloves were sharpened like claws, and they moved too fluidly to be fabric, more akin to how a porcelain doll had painted-on skin. Robin couldn’t even see the rise and fall of their chest, and the space underneath their jacket appeared to be empty , composed entirely of those ominously glowing strings. Robin was reminded of Cindry, the unfortunate woman from Thriller Bark. But if Hogback had considered her a success then the person before them would be a masterpiece.

Her gaze drifted back up, and she was startled to see them facing her. Their eyes were still closed, but they weren’t just facing her general direction, they were looking at her. It could have been Observation Haki, but it was unnerving nonetheless. Just as quickly, they looked away from her and turned their gaze, if it could be called that, back to her captain.

“Why did you do that?” the stranger finally said, with a slight tilt to their head. Their voice was soft, non-accusatory. They asked the question as if they were asking about the weather. And what a particular question that was. Not ‘Where am I?’ or ‘Who are you?’ but rather ‘Why’. What could they mean by that?

Luffy, drenched in ink from the chest down, mirrored their motion. Their question had been vague, but he seemed to know exactly what they were talking about. He stared right at them with that look , like he knew your deepest, darkest secrets. To their credit, their mystery person didn’t falter under it. 

“Huh? Because you were crying,” Luffy said it like it was obvious, going as far as to pick his nose as he said it. He sputtered when he inevitably got ink up his nose. Brook handed him a handkerchief, laughing good-naturedly.

The stranger flinched, either at the statement or Luffy loudly blowing his nose, brow furrowing just the slightest amount. It was such a small reaction that Robin almost didn’t catch it, but it was the first real one since they had appeared before the Straw Hats. “I wasn’t,” they said, but didn’t elaborate any further.

“Okay, if you say so. Anyways!” and Luffy was back in their space again, leaning into their impassive face with a wide grin on his own. The other didn’t move, leaving their faces mere inches apart. Everyone knew that expression on their captain’s face, and the group finally relaxed. Zoro sheathed his blades, though Robin could tell he was ready to draw them again at a moment's notice. She lowered her arms from her defensive posture as well, ready to savor what came next. 

“Nevermind all that! Join my crew!”

The stranger’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows furrowing upwards in a worried expression. They tilted their head downwards, hiding the lower half of their face in the high collar of their cloak. “I-”

“No way!” Nami screeched, her anger overriding any apprehension as she marched over to Luffy, knocking him upside the head. Luffy caught himself by grabbing the person’s shoulders, preventing them both from going back down. They didn’t protest at the sudden contact.

“I agree! They could be d-d-dangerous!” Chopper called from behind the mast. He was trying to hide. But he was peeking out the wrong way. Cute.

“Yohoho! How nostalgic!”

“We don’t even know their name!” Franky yelled.

“If they’re a man, no! We’re only accepting beautiful ladies!” 

“You guys have your priorities mixed up!” Usopp interjected through all the chaos, pointing an accusatory finger at his own comrades.

Robin brought a hand to her mouth, chuckling behind it. Leave it to Luffy to turn the situation around like this. She should have known he’d be enamored with a person who came out of a book. 

Luffy turned his head 180 degrees to face Usopp. The person gasped quietly at the sight of a rubber man in action, but their surprise went ignored by Luffy. Their captain’s smile grew, “No, Franky has a point!” His head whipped back around with incredible speed, snapping back into place, “Hey! What’s your name? I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I’m going to be King of the Pirates!”

They ‘stared’ at Luffy, a complicated expression crossing their features. Their face twisted up again, and it seemed this time they couldn’t shake it off. They seemed to have an internal debate with themselves. After a long moment, they finally decided on an answer. 

“My name is Yan. Yan Vismok.”

Chapter Text

얀샋ㄷ요무’s existence had been a single, insignificant mark on The City. Merely a drop of ink dripped onto the story it told. There had been a time where he had hoped to be a stray smudge on its pages, a small sign that he had existed, that he was noticed. But he knew better now. It was better to be the ink that quenched the pen’s thirst. You don't say a pen wrote a book just because the author used it to write their words. He was just a tool, used to convey the intent of The City, just like everyone else. Whatever story The City wanted to tell wasn’t for him to know.

얀샋ㄷ요무 had known his fate even before he accepted the invitation from Moirai, from The City. He would be buried in a book, and the Library’s bookshelves were to be his mausoleum. 

얀샋ㄷ요무 had been dead long before he entered.

That wasn’t to say his battle against the Patron Librarian of Philosophy was a foregone measure. Just because its victor was predetermined didn’t mean he would do things in halves. 얀샋ㄷ요무 had fought gloriously and desperately. And for a fleeting moment he had shone across the night sky. His soul burned up and collapsed beyond the murky smog of the skyline, and the City moved on with no one having seen it. A falling star, but falling all the same. It hadn’t been a happy existence, but it had been his.

And as the dark haired librarian smiled down at him, features twisted with sadistic glee, the chapter closed on 얀샋ㄷ요무’s life.

Being trapped in a book was much like being asleep, and just like always, he traced back his nightmares to remember his past. It seemed, even now, death evaded him. Familiar visages haunted his vision, swarming and twisting into horrible images. Memories of the crimes he had carried out, the sins he had committed. What he’d give to just be able to forget. Just because he had followed the Prescripts' Will didn’t mean he was innocent. The Prescripts had the right to judge him for that as well. 

But couldn't someone hold his hand, if just for a moment? They didn’t have to stay. They didn’t even have to mean it. If the Will of the City was the will of everyone, why did he have to suffer alone? The only thing that remained inside the husk of his chest were tangled strings. They reached up inside his throat, suffocating his pleas. Yet he still cried out. The only response was the reverberation of his wails, forever trapped in the echo chamber of his own making. He’d never leave this place and no one would ever find him here. And that was fine.

It was fine. It was fine. It was fine it’s fine it’s fine.

An unfamiliar hand reached inside his chest, fingers catching on slippery strings. Yet they reached beyond that, further inside. Stop it. Stop it. There was nothing for them to grab onto. Nothing for them to find. Why did they persist? What did they hope to find within him?

Another hand joined the first. 

Just stop it already. Leave him here. There was nowhere left for him to go, no home for him to return to. 얀샋ㄷ요무 had walked the path in front of him knowing full well it led to the sheer drop of a cliff, turbulent waves crashing against the rocks below. There would be no climbing back up that cliff, even if the fall hadn’t broken him first. He had been impaled on craggy nails, lost and scattered to the depths. All that remained was his empty, shattered shell, left to forever look back at the moment he had fallen. But at least here, at the bottom of that cliff, he could feel no more pain.

Slowly, he felt the sun spread over his skin. And a shadow casted over him. There, at the top of that cliff was that person, their body backlit by the ever rising sun. They looked down at him. Did they like what they saw? A broken doll, never to be put back together. What a pitiful sight he must make. Even if they threw a life preserver down to him, he couldn’t take it. Wouldn’t take it. They disappeared back down the cliff, gone, satisfied with what they had seen. The sun burned him.

And then the sun was gone, as if it were never there to begin with. How fleeting. But no, the shadow that had covered the sun was growing larger and larger. That person had jumped off the cliff. Faster and faster. They were falling towards him. Closer and closer. A hand outstretched towards him. 

Why did they insist that he take their hand, even if it meant they drowned down here as well? They were going to be impaled. They were going to join 얀샋ㄷ요무 in his grave. He forced himself to move, rusted joints creaking to life for the first time in a long, long while. 

얀샋ㄷ요무 grabbed their hand.

Yan Vismok was pulled from his book. The dark recesses of its pages giving way to blinding light, the whole world shifting on its axis. He was falling, with no way to know when he would hit the ground. Gray eyes met black ones, so deep that Yan could get lost in them. He did not even notice the distance closing between them, until they were gone from his sight, face pressed against a sturdy chest. A heartbeat thundered against his ear. It was easy to get lost in its rhythm.

And then they hit the ground.

The man below him grunted at the impact, and it shocked Yan back to his senses. He closed his eyes. It was too late. It had only been a moment, but his features were already engraved in his memory. Black hair, black eyes. Tan skin, an X-shaped scar on his chest. A smile that encompassed his whole face. How he already wished he could forget it. So Yan let the familiar scene behind his eyelids obscure the man from view. Hidden away behind a bloody curtain.

Yan pushed himself up. He needed space. The man was looking up at Yan with a look he refused to understand. His aura was overwhelming. Even with his eyes closed he felt himself being dragged back into his orbit, and pulling himself away was somehow a herculean effort. He finally made to stand up, but stumbled, something keeping him in place. His head followed the pull. Right, he was still clasping the hand of this person.

It was warm. 

He pulled away, letting the back of his hand ghost that scar. He could feel the steady heart beat of the man beneath him. It was sure and strong, a constant. There was something else that kept him there. Its pull was almost like Her voice, enticing him deeper, like an undertow he didn’t realize he was already caught in. He wanted to drown in its sound.

Yan stood up.

His body felt heavy as he moved, almost collapsing under the unfamiliar weight, and it was then that he realized. He was human again. No, just a Distortion that was impersonating a human. He didn't have to see himself to know his body was different from how it used to be. 

The most obvious change was the fact that there was a tear in his chest, exposing the hollow cavity of his insides. Any organs that should have belonged there were instead replaced with glowing blue strings. He wasn't sure if he should consider himself lucky or unlucky that the tear didn't encapsulate his entire torso, but just existed as if a surgeon had cut open his chest and left him on the operating table.

But the differences ran smaller than that. His hands were now mechanical in nature, and now just a normal, human-sized version of how they appeared in that distorted form. His fingers curled almost too smoothly, oiled by the ink that coursed through his veins. A chain connected to the lock on his hands., twisting and spiraling up the length of his arms to the junction of his shoulders, where it simply disappeared under the flesh.

Yan tilted his head upwards. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, and smell the salt of the ocean. It was not the sun he felt just moments ago. There was the sound of bubbling water, shifting sand, the creaking of a boat. Even farther beyond that he could hear the seaweed caressing each other, fish swimming, the life cycle in motion. 

Yet he could not hear the City's voice, beating within him to the tune of the city. He was empty. Yan had vomited up his feelings and desires, starving himself of any chance of happiness. He had done it out of his own volition, the City’s volition, but they had left him retching on the ground.

What was this? Not an end, but a beginning. Another damned beginning. Even if he hadn’t been allowed to die again, he’d finally gotten his absolution when he went to the Library. He’d finally found meaning to his existence, even if it had just been to exist for another.

And it was taken away from him yet again.

Bereft of his purpose, what was he supposed to do now? How could he live on? How did Yan even begin to move? Here he was, surrounded by a new set of jailors. Nine faces looked on at Yan, all showing a different set of emotions. He took them in one by one. Distrust. Curiosity. Apprehension. Concern. What truth laid beneath their skin?

He asked the question to the corpses at his feet, circling around him. The exposed flesh of their faces revealed their true expressions, the last shreds of privacy torn away by his hands. Their dismembered arms reached towards him for mercy. Wilted sunflowers yearning for an absent sun. Blood caked his shoes. His footsteps always left a bloody path for them to follow, his eyes ever closed to remind himself of their pursuit.

Yan finally turned back to the man responsible for this. “Why did you do that?” His voice sounded remarkably normal, no longer a whisper drowned out by the keys of a broken typewriter.

And the man had the gall to say, “Huh? Because you were crying.”

Yan might as well have been slapped in the face, for all the effect it had on him. He got one look at Yan’s heart and thought he knew him. He had not even seen the depths of Yan’s despair. “I wasn’t,” he finally managed out. The strings scratched at his throat. He found he couldn’t say anything more.

“Okay, if you say so. Anyways!” And the topic was dropped just like that. No questions. No probing. Yan should have felt relief, but all he was left with was a pit in his stomach at what was to come. 

His prospects weren’t good. He had invaded their space. It didn’t matter if it had been unintentional on his part. There were rules and he knew none of them. The power he had received that allowed him to know all outcomes was silent. It was likely that it left him the moment the City had abandoned him.

“Nevermind all that! Join my crew!”

What?

Of all the things for the man to say, that was the last thing Yan expected. What did he gain from this? He knew nothing about Yan. He didn’t even know who Yan was, what he had done. He casted his gaze downwards. Blood stained the back of his eyelids.

Why couldn’t he immediately say no?

Yan started to speak, “I—” 

“No way!” A woman interrupted. She strode over to the man in front of Yan, long auburn hair flowing behind her. She hit the back of his head. It was the correct assessment on her part.

No one would want him on their side anyways.

Instead of lashing out at her—like he had the right to do, clearly he was the one in charge—the man simply went forward with the motion, hands landing on Yan’s shoulders. His grip tightened momentarily, and Yan braced for the moment those hands wrapped around his neck. The action didn’t come. Instead, he merely laughed in Yan’s ear. It vibrated off his bones. The man didn’t seem to care at all about his subordinate’s rightfully placed anger. 

An animal took the moment to peek out from behind the ship’s mast. Except...the position was backwards. Its entire body was sticking out into view and a single eye hidden instead. “I agree! They could be d-d-dangerous!” the...racoon? Reindeer? cried out. Yan hoped it wasn’t a reindeer. He had never seen one in real life, but there must have been a reason R Corp. based one of their packs on it. Apparently, reindeers were capable of human speech.

“Yohoho! How nostalgic!” Now a skeleton was talking. Surely that wasn’t a real skeleton, given the voluminous afro. And if it was, how on earth did it manage to move and talk so fluidly?

Perhaps he shouldn’t talk.

“We don’t even know their name!” A large man with several prosthetics yelled. He must have spent a lot of money on body modifications to get his body as large as it was.

“If they’re a man, no! We’re only accepting beautiful ladies!” The blonde man added, standing to his feet. Yan wasn’t even going to question the logic behind that statement, and he didn’t want to hear it from someone who looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over.

“You guys have your priorities mixed up!” Bold words said from the long-nosed man hiding behind the largest of them.

At least some members of this man’s so-called “crew” had some sense, even if their reasoning was off. There were the two others who hadn’t said anything during the commotion, and they screamed danger. 

The obvious danger was the swordsman. Yan hadn’t missed the way his swords had been drawn only moments prior, and how he was waiting for Yan to give him a reason to put them to use. The odd sword style wasn’t to be taken lightly. Who knew what augmentations he had that allowed him to wield a sword between his teeth. Yan wasn’t sticking around to find out. A single eye tried to peer behind his eyelids. Yan wouldn’t let him.

He took stock of the other danger, and had to do a double take at the dark haired woman. For a split second, he had seen that librarian smiling down at him again, arm poised for a final blow. And then she was gone. This woman’s smile was softer, but the tightness in her eyes said she was watching his every movement. At first glance, she appeared much easier to take down, if it came to it, but a weakling wouldn’t stand there so casually unless she had a trick up her sleeve.

He was between a tiger and a viper. And they would eat him alive any second.

Yan wasn’t interested in a fight. He knew too little about the situation. Somehow, the boat was underwater, a translucent tent surrounding the vessel. Fascinating technology, but not one he had the time to ponder. Even if he made it out right now, he’d be at the mercy of the elements. He needed to wait for an opportune moment to make his escape.

He was in the middle of figuring out if he really should just take his chances swimming to the surface when the man’s head literally spun all the way around, like some sort of owl. What seamless prosthetics. “No, Franky has a point!” he shouted over his shoulder. His head back snapped into place naturally and effortlessly, his eyes boring into Yan. “Hey! What’s your name? I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I’m going to be King of the Pirates!”

What did any of that even mean? Yan wanted to tell him off, and he was going to do just that. The man’s—Luffy’s—expectant smile didn’t falter. 

“My name is Yan. Yan Vismok.” That wasn’t what he had meant to say at all, but saying it felt like finality, like he was signing some sort of unwritten contract. Yet there was little reaction from the others. The dark haired woman muttered something about it being ‘familiar’ under her breath. The blonde chauvinist coughed on the drag of a cigarette, but waved off the concern of the abnormally large man. 

“Yan,” the way Luffy said his name had the hairs on the back of his neck standing stiff. He pressed his lips together. Then, Luffy suddenly positioned himself behind Yan, hands on his shoulders as he steered him around the group. “Right, come on guys! Introduce yourselves too!” Was he some kind of pet? 

Luffy faced him to the auburn haired woman, who seemed surprised that she was chosen first. “Huh, oh me? I’m Nami, the Straw Hat Pirates’ navigator,” she had recovered quickly, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she cocked her hips to the side. The pose obviously drew attention to her shirt, or lack thereof. They were pirates, right? Maybe it made sense that she was dressed to go swimming?

Who was he kidding, she was wearing a bikini top. Her cocky smile told him everything he needed to know.

The small animal suddenly ran up to Nami, saving Yan from having to comment. He was amazingly standing on two legs, and wrapped his front legs (his arms?) around Nami’s leg as he said, “And I’m Tony Tony Chopper, but you can call me Chopper! I’m the ship’s doctor!” Yan could admit it was cute how excited he was, but the doctor? How was a small creature capable of tending to the injuries of literal pirates.

“Don’t worry. He ate the Human-Human Fruit. He’s more than capable of treating any wounds you have,” the long-nosed man said, as if that explained everything, as he stepped out from behind the large cyborg. He was wearing an interesting set of overalls, but no shirt. What was with this crew and not wearing shirts? 

“You bastard! I’m not happy ‘cause you called me capable!” The pleased little dance Chopper did said otherwise. The action wasn't commented on. Guess their doctor did this often.

“I’m Usopp, by the way, but you may know me as my alias: Sogeking! The King of Snipers!” He pointed a thumb at himself. He held the pose. His smile twitched. Yan knew he wanted a response, but held his tongue a moment longer.

“Never heard of him,” he finally said.

“Wait, really?” Usopp’s whole posture slumped, looking utterly dejected.

Yan tilted his head, “I was in a book for who knows how long. I’m not even sure how much time has passed,” and the silent treatment from the City wasn’t helping.

“You knew you were in a book?” Nami asked.

Yan nodded, “Yeah. I received an invitation to The Library. It says you have to overcome an ordeal to get the books you want, or be turned into a book yourself.”

The dark haired woman looked interested, “What kind of ordeal?”

“Well, for me, I had to fight several librarians. It came down to me and one other before I lost,” he said it without a care. The result had been decided from the start, anyway. Luffy’s hands suddenly squeezed his shoulders. Yan had gotten too used to him there. 

“Sounds like my kinda library,” the tiger said, uncrossing his arms with a self-satisfied smirk, “Roronoa Zoro.” His green haramaki was open to expose a large scar bisecting his chest. A hand went to one of his swords, resting there casually. The motion reminded Yan of a man casually slapping the shoulder of a comrade. The sword hummed, eager.

“Nico Robin,” the viper added, her enigmatic smile never leaving her face. She didn’t offer anything more. She took her sunglasses off her head, letting it hang from the half-drawn zipper of her cropped jacket. Its tight draw was at odds with the loose, tied skirt that hung low on her hips, tied to show off her thigh. They were either fully confident in their abilities or their clothes had to be made out of Nuovo Fabric, or some equivalent, for them not to care about how exposed they were.

“Supeerrrrrr Franky!” The cyborg suddenly yelled out, striking a pose wherein he leaned to the side at an angle, punching his ridiculous forearms together above his head. He was the most underdressed out of them all, wearing only a speedo and open Hawaiian shirt. Maybe it was difficult to find clothes in his size.

“And Soul King Brook!” The skeleton posed beside him, strumming a chord on his bonefish shaped guitar. There was an explosion of smoke behind them, manufactured for dramatic effect. The skeleton’s fashion sense was also over the top, even with the feathered boa.

He heard Luffy yell, “So cool!” in his ear, nearly leap-frogging over Yan to get a closer look. Usopp and Chopper also cheered and clapped at the spectacle. Were they always like this?

Brook took Yan’s silence as some sort of invitation, because he literally twirled over to him, holding out a, literally, bony hand as if he were asking for a dance. “I know we’ve just met but...may I see your panties?”

Yan was speechless. How did he even react to that? Was that how Brook died, rightfully murdered for sexual harassment? Could he kill him again? 

He reigned himself in. Right, it wasn’t the worst thing that had been said to him. Nor would it be that last. “I’m...a man,” Yan said slowly, as if he were explaining a rather difficult concept to a child. 

He didn’t expect the commotion that phrase would cause.

“For real!?” Luffy, Usopp, Franky and Chopper all yelled in unison. Brook fell to his hands and knees, wailing at the inhumanity of it all. Robin giggled behind her hand. Nami sighed, pressing a hand to her head.

Zoro raised a single eyebrow, “I knew from the start.”

"Shut up, you liar!” Usopp pointed a finger at him.

The two men got into a petty squabble, Nami yelling at them to stop fighting, and Franky said, “Man, I guess you’re really disappointed, huh, Sanji?” He said with a cheeky grin, elbowing the blonde man in the side.

“Hm? Huh, yeah,” Sanji mumbled. He brought his cigarette to his lips and took a drag. The faint ember was down to his fingers.

The ship suddenly grew silent, all eyes on Sanji. Yan didn’t have to guess that this probably wasn’t normal behavior for him.

Brook, Franky, and Usopp were suddenly huddled together, whispering amongst themselves.

“Is he having a crisis?”

“Did Yan break him already?”

“Perhaps the shock was too much to handle.”

“Wait, couldn’t this be useful in his rehabilitation?”

“Great idea Usopp! Yan-bro, come’re. Here’s the story—”

“I can hear you guys, you assholes!” Sanji yelled. He stomped off into a nearby room (sleeping quarters, Yan noted), slamming the door behind him. The rest stared at the closed door in shock. They didn’t seem to know how to break the tension caused by their comrade’s sudden outburst.

Zoro sighed loudly and pushed himself off the railing, following after Sanji. Yan heard the door lock behind him. Seconds later, there was yelling. What was going on in there? He stretched his senses to listen in, but was interrupted by a voice next to his ear. 

“Don’t worry, they’re always like that,” Luffy’s laugh was unconcerned, but his tone spoke of the utmost confidence he had in his crew.

Apparently Franky wasn’t too concerned either, because he asked, “So no one else has any mysterious books to share, right?” When no one answered, he continued, “in that case, there’s something I have to tell everyone. And, uh, Yan...” he trailed off, not knowing what question to ask. Yan got the hint.

“Don’t worry about me, continue with what you were doing before,” Yan said. He finally shook Luffy off, going to move to the other side of the ship to give them some privacy. The spot where he had emerged from his book was clean, the ink having evaporated quickly. Even the book had disappeared. It was like it had never happened.

Yet here he was.

A hand suddenly clasped down on his shoulder, and Yan inwardly sighed. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Luffy had stretched his arm across the ship to grab him. “Come eat with us!” and Luffy was dragging him back, not even giving Yan the chance to turn around to walk normally. 

Yan was pushed down to the ground between Luffy and Robin, where the others had already seated themselves around a floor table someone had pulled out. Franky hadn’t waited to start his explanation, already halfway through telling the others about how their supposed guide ‘Hachi’ had gotten hurt protecting their ship. Apparently the Straw Hat Pirates had been separated for two years, and several allies had taken it upon themselves to protect their vessel. 

Arms grew from the table to pass a lunch box from the other side over to Yan. He thought he was imagining it until he heard Robin chuckle beside him, arms crossed before she went back to her own meal. So that was her doing. He picked up a fried shrimp with clawed fingers, taking a small bite.

It tasted like nothing.

The food disappeared into the nothingness inside him. It made sense. A monster whose only purpose was to fulfill Prescripts didn’t need to eat, let alone taste. Yet he finished off the shrimp, if only to be polite.

Franky went on to talk about a man named Bartholomew Kuma. He seemed to have a complicated relationship with the Straw Hats. His situation, however, was grave: a man who was being used as a weapon of war, his memories and emotions completely erased. Yet he had used his last request to be programmed to protect the Thousand Sunny until the first of them returned.

“That’s crazy, why would he do that for us?” Zoro asked, inserting himself into the conversation as if he had never left, Sanji right behind him. The others chimed in with their own thoughts as Zoro sat himself down on Robin’s other side. Sanji notably didn’t look at Yan as he took the long way around the table, still ending up next to Zoro but conveniently not having to walk behind Yan. 

Franky continued, ending with, “...Bartholomew Kuma is someone we are very much indebted to. But even if we see him again someday, He’s now an emotionless 'human weapon!'” How ironic, then, that Yan had become one such weapon by choice, keeping his sense of self, but Kuma had become one by force, losing his humanity in the process.

The conversation shifted to something lighter after that, the group finishing their meal in peace. Yan switched his lunch box with Luffy’s empty one when he wasn’t looking, and the pirate chowed down, being none the wiser. Their meal was cleaned up, the table put away, and then they were milling about, the others making idle comments on the sea as the ship descended lower and lower. Yan could admit the pod of whales that passed by them was quite extraordinary. 

The lull had given Yan the time to collect himself, no longer being bombarded with new information. He reached out his senses again, searching for Her Call. Yan still couldn’t hear The City, but in the distance, he heard something else. Muffled voices, an animal’s cries, water pressure bearing down on another ship. the displacement of water. Another ship was making its way towards them. Yan furrowed his brow. Were they passing by, or heading for them deliberately? Did he even mention this to the others? It weighed on his tongue.

“What’s the matter, Yan?” Chopper asked sweetly, pulling on an unstained part of his cloak to get his attention.

He shook his head, “Nothing. There’s just a boat heading towards us at...six o’clock. I was trying to figure out if it was on purpose or not.” Luffy, Sanji, Robin, and Zoro all suddenly looked at him.

“Wait, really!?” Usopp’s jaw dropped, and he ran up the stairs to the next level to peer over the railing, “say that sooner, Yan! Everyone, there really is a ship heading straight towards us!”

The other boat was picking up speed, “It’s aiming to cut us off,” Yan added, since Usopp asked. Franky ran up to the wheel, turning the ship just before the other boat scraped against The Thousand Sunny. Yan braced himself as the ship listed to the side, pressing Chopper against his leg.

The enemy ship was being pulled by a giant sea cow, and it wasn’t the weirdest thing Yan had seen today. No wonder it had gained on them so quickly. The beast slowed to a halt in front of The Thousand Sunny. 

Nami approached it, “Aren’t you Moomoo of the Arlong Pirates?” She took a step closer, “It’s me! Don’t you remember me?” Why was she trying to reason with an animal?

“Huh? He looks kind of familiar, Luffy.” Sanji said from Luffy’s side.

“You sure?” 

And to their credit, the sea cow did seem to remember them, but clearly not in a positive light. It let out a distressed cry before racing off into the sea. But not before someone yelled, “Now’s the time while they’re still confused! Kill them all!” And a lone figure landed on the deck of The Sunny. As the other ship sailed away, Yan could hear others on that ship calling out for their, now stranded, captain. “Give ‘em a nice greeting with the gatling gun! Kill all the Straw Hats and-” and he cut himself off. So he finally realized he was alone.

Franky easily hefted the trespasser into the air with a single hand, and Yan had to listen to him beg for his life. Franky was clearly more merciful than Yan, because he only threw him to the ground.

“Who are you? You’re the captain of that ship, aren’t you?” Zoro asked, no, demanded.

“I heard them call him Captain Caribou,” Yan said, walking up to his side. If the Straw Hats wanted him to speak up with what he heard, he would. Caribou was sweating bullets, long tongue sticking out of his dropped jaw in fear. Whatever excuses he had came out as only a choked gasp. Should he cut off his tongue?

Nami came up to Yan’s other side, “Hey! Where’d you get that sea cow?” That was hardly the most important question, in Yan’s opinion.

Instead of answering her question, Caribou ran his tongue over his face, leering at Nami. Disgusting. Should he gouge out his eyes? One swift kick to the face from Sanji seemed to get the job done, though. Except his nose suddenly gushed blood when he looked back at Nami, the force literally propelling him upwards. So really, Sanji wasn’t much better. Luffy had to stretch his arms to grab him, laying him down on the lawn as Chopper hooked him up to a blood transfusion. Was Sanji really about to die from blood loss just from looking at a woman?

“Maybe we really should use Yan as rehabilitation,” Nami sighed.

But Sanji’s kick at least had Caribou cooperating, telling them that underwater beasts were often used to pull ships. He said this as Franky grabbed a rope to tie him up. Yan wondered how Franky would do so with such large hands. That is, until a slot opened up in his palms, and a pair of smaller hands came out. Well. That explained that.

The crew was unconcerned with Caribou after that, though, but it reminded Yan of his place. He was one bad move from ending up just like him, and so he would remain cooperative. He turned his attention away from Caribou when Nami suddenly told everyone to put on some coats. Yan’s own clothing was sufficient, but he paid attention to what she was saying anyways.

He had missed the beginning of her explanation, but they were talking about how the sea currents worked under the sea. He listened along, taking it all in. Luffy and Zoro had already stopped listening. At least Usopp and Chopper were still asking questions so Yan didn’t have to.

Nami continued, “In extremely cold places, sea ice forms. When that happens, the salt content-”

“So there’s some mysterious current!” Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, and Chopper said in unison. Damn it, he wanted to know. Nami was practically giving away this information for free.

Yan weighed his options, and eventually his curiosity got the better of him, like it always did. “Nami,” he said quietly, and she jumped slightly before turning her full attention towards him, “can you continue?”

Nami brought a hand to her mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears, “You...you really want to know, Yan?” At his nod, she suddenly wrapped her arms around him in a tight tug, burying his face in her chest. Thankfully, she had already put on a coat. He raised his arms awkwardly, not sure where to put them, “I knew there was something good about you!” Hadn't Nami been the first to voice her disapproval? Was this really all it took to change her mind?

“Nami, can you smother me in your bosom, too?” Brook asked innocently. Her kick almost rivaled Sanji’s own. It threw Brook all the way to where the other men stood.

Robin called from the front of the ship, and everyone turned their attention towards the downward current, Nami thankfully letting go of him in the process. Yan had let down his guard, and had barely noticed the giant waterfall they had been getting closer to. No, there was something else in that waterfall. He pushed his way to the stern with everyone else, as if being closer would confirm what he sensed. 

“Wait, there’s a giant octopus down there,” He said, but he was too late. The beast ascended, its size dwarfing their tiny ship. Crushed ships sat in its tentacles, the octopus eager to add the Thousand Sunny to its collection.

Luffy didn’t seem to share his concern, cheerfully saying, “I just got a great idea! Let’s tame it!” 

It, in fact, wasn’t a great idea. A delusional one, really. But Yan got the feeling that once Luffy got an idea in his head, there was nothing that could stop him from making it come true. The only ones who also seemed to take issue with this were Nami, Chopper, and Usopp. Everyone else had taken to doing their own thing. Robin had even pulled out a sketchbook, Franky looking at her work with a large hand around her waist.

Yan supposed the only thing to do right now was either find a way to get Luffy what he wanted, or die. He turned his attention back out to the water and said, “That ship is coming back,” though it went largely unheard in the midst of everyone talking about how their plans to subdue the giant octopus. Only Caribou heard him, calling out for his men to rescue him, “but it’s about to be crushed,” he said, speaking it into existence. The octopus effortlessly crushed the hull like a twig, and the sea cow broke free from its binds, swimming away.

Caribou’s men, miraculously still alive, floated upwards, their clothes poofing up and acting like life jackets. “They look like jellyfish,” Zoro said, and Yan was inclined to agree. He ignored Caribou yelling at the both of them.

The octopus wasn’t satisfied with just that, and swung an arm at their own ship, and they were running out of options fast. Franky confirmed they couldn’t just run away, which had been Yan’s first idea, the propulsion using up their limited air.

“If you want to fight, I’ve got a plan for you, Straw Hat Luffy!” Caribou suddenly suggested, and Yan raised an eyebrow at that. What was his aim? With no time to spare, Caribou laid out his plan. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji were stuffed into improvised diving suits made out of the bubble coating their ship. 

As was Yan.

He turned his head towards Caribou, who swiftly looked away. So this was his revenge. Very well. Caribou avoided confronting him by explaining that they couldn’t go too far lest the line tethering them to the ship snapped.

And then the four of them jumped off the ship and into the sea.

“Can you even fight, Yan?” Luffy asked beside Yan.

“A little late for that, you think!” Sanji yelled from Luffy's other side.

“Well enough.”

“But didn’t you say you lost your fight in that Library? Want to turn back now?” Zoro taunted, tilting his chin in challenge.

“That’s fine! You guys just buy me some time. I’m gonna hit it with something huge!” Yan had to wonder what ‘something huge’ meant.

Zoro placed a hand on one of his swords, “I’ll defeat it while we’re waiting for you then.”

Yan tilted his head, “I thought Luffy wanted to tame it.”

“That’s right! We’re keeping it as a pet, so don’t cut it up!” Luffy’s tone brokered no argument.

The octopus wasn’t interested in the four flies swimming towards it, and instead swatted again at the ship. Yet each attack was deflected in turn by one of the remaining Straw Hats. Franky fired a series of missiles, Chopper somehow fluffed up his fur enough to serve as a barrier, and Robin grew two giant arms from the ship to push back a tentacle. Even Sanji and Zoro got in on the action, Sanji leaping out of his bubble to kick an appendage and Zoro cutting another to shreds. It was almost distracting, watching them in action. It was a good thing he hadn’t tried to fight them earlier, after all.

A tentacle swung in Yan’s direction, and he stuck his arms out of his bubble. He transformed both his arms, hands growing in size. He propelled them forward, chains snaking around the tentacle. He dug his claws into the slimy flesh, securing the tentacle in place. The octopus tried to move, to no avail. He wouldn’t be able to hold it for long, though, he could already feel his chains creaking under the pressure. But it was enough time for Luffy, whose fist suddenly ballooned in size, nearly the size of the octopus’ head. His fist rocketed forward, much faster than Yan’s had been, punching it squarely in the face. 

So that’s what he meant by something big.

It was enough to knock the octopus out, the creature slowly starting to sink into the depths, and he dislodged his claws, anchoring them back to his body. Unfortunately, they were being dragged with it, the force of its fall forming an artificial current. It was enough to snap the tether binding their bubbles to the ship. A shark escaped from the octopus’ mouth, but that was the least of Yan’s worries.

Several meters away, Yan sensed Luffy’s bubble burst from the force of his own punch, and his body had immediately gone limp. Did Luffy...not know how to swim? Why the hell had he wanted to come out here then? Why was he even a pirate ? Sanji also noticed this, and he abandoned his bubble again to go to his captain. The man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he looked around, no doubt for Zoro or Yan.

Yan extended his arm out again, letting his claw stall in front of Sanji. He didn’t have to say anything. Sanji immediately circled an arm around the entirety of his hand, bracing himself against it. Yan yanked back, and the two were sent hurtling towards him. He transformed his arm back to normal when they got close, and Sanji shoved himself and Luffy into his bubble.

Luffy immediately gasped for breath, taking a second to take in some much needed oxygen. Sanji caught his own breath before saying, “Where’s the Marimo? He’s gonna get lost if we don’t find him!” It was the first time Sanji had actually said something to him.

Yan stretched his senses, searching for the swordsman. He was hidden from view, a sinking ship blocking their direct line of sight to him. He extended an arm one last time, weaving around debris and slimy appendages to reach him. He felt Zoro grab onto his arm, and Yan began to trace back his path once Zoro was secure. Except, Zoro left his bubble right as he started to pull back. Why did he do that!

“What’s he doing!” Yan exclaimed, dragging Zoro back as fast as possible before he ran out of air. Zoro helpfully slashed a boulder in half for them.

“What? What did that idiot do?” Sanji asked, voice rising in volume.

“He left his bubble!”

“Why did he do that!”

“I don’t know!” 

And then Zoro was there, squeezing into Yan’s bubble, everyone shifting to allow him in. Yan suddenly found himself squished between Zoro and Sanji.

Zoro crossed his arms, shifting his back against Luffy’s in an attempt to get comfortable, “Hm, tight squeeze.”

“And whose fault is that! You didn’t have to leave your bubble, you know!” Sanji leaned over Yan’s head to yell at Zoro, as if the close proximity would get his point across.

Zoro leaned over Yan as well, literally butting heads with Sanji, “I thought it’d be faster!”

“Why would that even matter!”

Yan shrunk down beneath them.

“How are we going to get back to the ship?” Yan asked. They were practically stranded out here, and one of them couldn’t swim.

Luffy suddenly laughed, having recovered from his near drowning experience, “We can just ask Surume!”

“Surume?”  The other three all asked in unison.

“Yeah! The octopus. We’re friends now!” Luffy said, and ‘Surume’ rose up from behind them. It waved its tentacles around them and Yan could swear it was smiling. Sure, they were friends now, why not. “Yan! Lead us to the others!”

Yan nodded, and he stretched his senses again. He had to push past a bunch of stuff to find them. Gigantic fish, rocks, more fish, a different ship, but he found them. The new ship was concerning, however. It was definitely inhabited. “They got pretty far, but they’re pretty much directly below us.”

“Alright! Surume, downwards!” Luffy cheered, and the octopus gave a mock salute. It gently wrapped their bubble in a tentacle, and then started to descend.

“I have to admit,” Zoro started, “your Observation Haki is impressive.”

“Observation Haki?” Yan asked. The four of them had pressed their backs to each other, but Yan could feel three pairs of eyes suddenly turn on him.

“Do...Do you now know what that is?” Sanji sounded disbelieving.

“Should I?”

The pirates all shared a look with each other, seemingly trying to decide who got to explain it to Yan. Apparently the duty went to Sanji, because he said, “You're blind, right? Yet you’re able to see the world around you. You can sense where things are. It’s how you found this Marimo, and how you know where our ship is.”

Yan didn’t refute the ‘blind’ accusation, it was technically true, but he tilted his head at the rest of Sanji’s explanation. That sounded exactly like what he did, but... “Is it really that impressive? I may be able to see a little farther than others, but something like this was common among my coworkers. Ah, Surume, move to the left, please,” His Observation Haki, as they called it, was nowhere near Esther’s level. His abilities were only being augmented by his ties to The City. Such as this ability to see briefly into the future, though it required too much of his concentration to be reliable.

“Oh? That’s scary,” but Zoro sounded absolutely thrilled at the prospect, “and how long did it take you to get to this level?”

“About a month,” Yan said.

Zoro let out a low whistle, but it was Sanji who spoke, “Are you some kind of genius? Or an idiot? What kind of guy masters Haki to this level and doesn’t even know what it’s called?”

“Well, we didn’t call it Haki,” Yan retorted. What was this guy’s problem? His power should allow him to understand the thoughts and emotions of people, yet Yan was finding it immensely difficult to do so. All that remained was his ability to see around him.

“What did you call it, then?”

Yan shrugged, closed gaze out to the black sea, “Nothing, really. You either could do it or you died.” In the short month he had been a Messenger, he rarely saw a Proselyte twice. Granted, some of them had been sent to their death by his Prescripts, but that had just been the will of the City, in the end.

He quickly changed the subject, “The others should be ahead of us. We might want to hurry, though. It looks like some giant is about to punch your ship.” Yan had stopped questioning the absurdity of his statements.

“What, really? Surume, let’s go!” Luffy pointed in front of them, and Surume was swimming at top speed towards their destination. The Thousand Sunny must have come into view for the others, because Luffy said, “Get him, Surume!”

And the octopus fired a right hook at the giant, wailing on him when he was down. “That’s enough! Stop!’ Luffy yelled, and it did. If anything, Luffy’s control over giant sea creatures was the impressive thing, not whatever Yan could do.

“You’re all alive!” Chopped wailed. The others waved and cheered at their arrival, beckoning them down. They were eased onto the ship, and the four of them quickly popped their shared bubble. They all immediately stepped away from each other to get some much needed space. 

Luffy threw himself onto the grass, stretching his limbs out, “You should have seen it! All our bubbles burst except for Yan’s, so he stretched out his arms to grab us. Like I do! Except his arms were all metal. And then he used Observation Haki to find you guys!”

“Really! That’s amazing!” Chopper said, eyes sparkling.

Nami clapped her hands together, “Yeah, you did great, Yan!”

A hand went to Usopp’s chin, “so that’s what those metal hands were, huh.”

“I wonder how it works...” Franky mumbled, lifting up one of Yan’s arms to inspect it. Yan let him, ducking his head at all the attention.

Luffy was looking up at him with an expectant smile, “Hey Yan! What do you sense right now?”

Yan worried his brows, “An underwater volcano is about to erupt.” and then there was a trembling of the earth, the very water vibrating around them.

Usopp chose that moment to cry out, “You always say such ominous things! Can’t it be ‘We’ll reach Fish-Man Island without incident’ or something!”

“We have about twenty seconds.”

“That’s not helping!”

“My, no wonder you look so worried all the time,” Robin said, pressing a finger in the space between his eyebrows. Yan thought he had masked his feelings well enough, but clearly she saw through him. He’d have to be more careful. He rubbed at the spot when she turned away, standing there as everyone else scrambled for something to do. Even Surume had broken out into an awkward sprint to escape their impending doom, carrying The Sunny on its head. 

The other ship Yan had sensed earlier was sailing beside them. It was huge, enough so that The Thousand Sunny could fit through one of the holes in its hull if she wanted to, falling apart as it was. The ship’s decrepit state reminded Yan of the ghost ships only heard about in children’s stories. However, its passengers were alive, and he didn’t like what he felt. Obsession. Hatred. Anger. Their malevolence was so strong that even he could feel it with his broken powers. Even as the Straw Hat Pirates ran around with their heads cut off, his was turned towards that ship. There was something below the surface of it all.

If She would just answer his call, he could figure it out.

The volcano erupted.

Usopp gripped his shoulders, “Yan! What do we do?” he wailed. He shook Yan forward and back in his distress. It really wasn’t helping Yan focus.

“L-Liste-en to-o Na-ami,” Yan’s voice came out stilted from the constant shaking.

Sanji ran up to Nami, “Nami! Which way is Fish-Man Island?” Yan was almost proud of him for getting a full sentence out before he snorted up blood, but also disappointed that he was having lewd thoughts during a crisis.

Nami was glaring down at her watch, a compass attached on top. It was like she was willing it to point them in the right direction, “It’s straight ahead! Almost there!” She casted her gaze forward, a determined set to her jaw, “Head for that trench!” Nami called over the chaos.

Ahead of them was indeed a trench, stretching down into a deep, dark abyss. It was all consuming, making even Surume look small. There was nothing but sheer rock all the way down.

Usopp crouched down, hiding under Yan’s cloak like a security blanket. He wrapped his arms around Yan’s legs. “It’s totally black up ahead! I’m scared!” and he kept going. Yan tuned him out, before the wailing gave him a headache. Could he even get headaches?

“Jump down, Surume!” Luffy’s call was refreshing in comparison to Usopp’s death wails.

Surume jumped. And the volcano erupted again. They just narrowly missed the plume of lava that was boiling in the water.

They were sinking down into the abyss, but so was an avalanche of boulders. The cliff has collapsed from the force of the last eruption, and now boulders were hurtling towards them. They’d surely be crushed, unless.

Yan lifted his cloak, turning his head downwards to face Usopp. He was still quivering next to his knees. Usopp looked back at him with tearful eyes. “Yan, what shou-”

“Am I going to do everything for you?” Yan snapped. He sounded too irritated. He composed himself and said, voice calmer, “You’ve received your Prescript, and now it’s up to you to carry it out. You don’t want to die here, do you?” 

Usopp stared up at him, expression unreadable. Yan had unconsciously spoken how he used to when delivering Prescripts, but Yan didn’t correct himself. If you said something confidently enough, you could get away with saying even the most insane things. During their exchange, Zoro had started to climb over the railing to cut up the boulders himself. Pale arms grew from the railing, the ground, grabbing at Zoro. “Hey! Let me go!”

“We’re 25,000 feet underwater! The pressure would crush you!” Robin retaliated, struggling to hold Zoro back..

“Then what am I supposed to-”

“Special Attack! Green Star!”

And a nest of seaweed erupted from the trench wall, catching the boulders in its net. Usopp relaxed his stance, sheathing his slingshot back in its holster. Luffy, Brook and Chopper praised him, the man eating it up with a hearty laugh. Yan sighed, shoulders slumping, and then caught himself, perfecting his posture yet again.

Usopp took a moment to stop feeding his ego to look at Yan, “Oh yeah, Yan. What’s a Prescript?”

Yan looked back over his shoulder at Usopp, and then up. He didn’t say anything, because a stray boulder landed right on Surume’s head. The octopus was knocked unconscious yet again.

And then they were free-falling down the abyss.

Chapter Text

30,000 feet below the sea, a pirate ship rested atop the head of an octopus, lulled gently by the ocean waves. The thought alone sounded like the start to some bizarre fairytale.

The Straw Hat crew had fallen in darkness for only a few short minutes, with only a thought and a prayer that they would land safely. The scenery hadn’t changed at all for Yan, even as the trench finally opened up to a wide cavern, light stretching as far as the eye could see. The sudden exposure was blinding, and the Straw Hat Pirates had only been able to squeeze their eyes shut until they finally hit the ground. Surume, who seemed fine, all things considering, had cushioned their fall, making for a miraculous save.

Truly, their luck was remarkable.

The others each got their bearings in turn, all remarking at how suddenly bright it was. Yan had to admit it was weird. They had fallen even farther down into the sea, light should not have been able to reach this depth. Yet off in the distance, cocooned in a watery membrane, rested an island. The light filtering through the sea was like a spotlight on it, a lighthouse for those who made it this far away from the security of the surface. It was like looking into a terrarium garden of rising coral reefs and underwater flora, all wound together into the unmistakable shape of a civilization.

“The needle’s pointing that way! It must be Fish-man Island!” Nami called out. With their goal finally in sight, the others began to celebrate, cheering about mermaids of all things. Yan had to wonder about that. Would they be like the ones depicted in fairy tales, with shimmering scales and flowing hair, or be someone like Greta, whose appearance was a bastardization of a shark.

Robin squinted her eyes, expression hidden behind her sunglasses, “Truly? Yan, can you confirm?” She asked, turning towards him. 

Yan barely registered her words. Because he heard it.

A Call.

Yan was filled with sweet relief . He had simply been too far before, that was all. She hadn’t abandoned him. He could still fulfill his purpose, even if he wasn’t in his City. Maybe that was why he had been cast so far from his home turf, to spread the Will of The Prescripts elsewhere. Yes. That had to be it. The Call was still only a whisper at the back of his mind, too faint to make out any real words. He’d probably actually have to be on the island for anything more. But he could hear it. He could hear it. 

His feet moved before he realized it. 

A hand clasped down on his shoulder.

And the voice was gone. 

Yan turned his head slowly, and was greeted with Sanji’s murderous gaze, eyes shadowed by his brow, cigarette threatening to snap between his teeth. How dare he. How dare he .

“You’ll answer when our beautiful Robin-swan asks you a question,” Sanji said. The cigarette bobbed between his lips. Sparks flew between them.

Yan faced Sanji fully as he spoke, who had let go of his shoulder to step back, “I’ve been meaning to ask, but what’s your problem with me?” He wasn’t going to waste this future vision when he could just ask. There were more important things he needed to use that for.

“What’s my problem? You tell me, Yan Vismok ,” His last name was spoken with vitriol, practically spat out, and Yan couldn’t fathom why. His parents had been dead for years, and they’d never been particularly prodigious or well-known. Any grudges had been resolved with his father’s death, and his mother had been regarded as a ‘good girl.’ If anyone were to have a grudge against his family it’d be against him and him alone. 

Which meant there was no talking this through. “Shall we settle this, then?” He stepped towards Sanji, his footprints leaving behind inky stains that clung to the bottom of his shoes. Ink bubbled up from beneath him, his claymore materializing in his hand. He dragged it behind him, advancing slowly.

Meanwhile, Sanji had lifted up a leg, folding it high against his chest, hands in his pockets. The appendage literally caught fire, his cigarette burning just as hot. A former Liu Association member? It didn’t seem quite right, but it would make sense why Sanji hated him. Yan hadn’t exactly been on good terms with them, in the end. Regardless, he knew how to deal with their fighting style.

“Knock it off, you two!” Franky yelled, looking ready to step in.

“Luffy, stop them!” Nami cried as she grabbed Luffy’s shoulders. He allowed himself to be shaken by her, head swinging back and forth, but he only stood there with his arms crossed.

There were other calls for them to stop, to calm down, but Yan had had it with Sanji. He had been cooperative, considerate. He hadn’t had to help the Straw Hats when they were being attacked, but he had. He didn’t have to comply with all their requests, but he had . No Prescript had told him to do that. Yet Sanji had hated him from the moment he emerged from his book. Yan tried to tell himself that there were people who hated you regardless of what you did. That this wasn’t personal.

But Yan’s temper had always been his downfall. He just hadn’t expected to lose it so soon.

They lunged towards each other.

They were met with twin blades stopping their attacks. Zoro stood in between them, knees bent and stance wide, arms crossed over each other to support his block. Sanji pushed his foot against Zoro’s blade. “Out of the way, Marimo!”

“You said,” Zoro said through gritted teeth, single eye glaring at Sanji, “that you would give him a chance.” It was spoken low, just loud enough for Sanji to hear. Yan wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“Nice one, Zoro!” Usopp cheered from the side. Everyone had moved to give them space. Yan was honestly surprised Luffy hadn’t stepped in. He chanced a look at their captain. He had an oddly serious look on his face, one that Yan couldn’t even begin to unravel. His body was tense, but he didn’t look like he was about to step in.

His lapse in focus had been his mistake, because Zoro suddenly put his weight into his swords, pushing both Yan and Sanji back. The two slid a few feet away, but neither were idle, and Zoro slid his final sword between his teeth. Yan rushed back in, stance low, using his cloak to hide the swing of his blade. Sanji went high, leaping up into the air to aim a downward kick at Zoro. Zoro stood his ground, and all their attacks clashed yet again.

“Now they’re just fighting Zoro!” Yan heard Chopper wail, but it was just background noise to him, drowned out by the scrape of steel. They all met each other blow for blow, blades and feet clashing off each other. Basic swordplay wasn’t going to work against someone like Zoro. Yan switched to a one-handed style, something he didn’t have the strength for back when he was human, and transformed his other hand beneath his cloak. Zoro’s eye slid over to him in an instant and he went on the offensive, taking the gamble to turn his full attention on Yan. 

Yan did a horizontal swipe with his blade, but Zoro leaped into the air to dodge it. He beared down on Yan with his blades crossed in an X-shape, the sword in his mouth slicing across it. Yan caught his blades between his fingers, and pierced upwards with his sword. Sanji, from where he landed below Zoro, kicked his leg up high, knocking Yan's claymore even higher, off target. Yan let it go, before the force of the blow could knock him off balance. His claymore flew in the air, and then dissipated into nothingness. 

Yan closed his fingers, trapping Zoro’s swords between them. Zoro flexed his arms and held on tight as Yan swung Zoro right at Sanji. Zoro just kicked himself off of Sanji’s braced arm with a “watch it!” to each other. Sanji spun on his heel to deliver a spinning kick that would have hit Yan’s temple, if he hadn’t stopped right as a new voice rang out.

“How can you take orders from mere humans, Kraken?” A haughty voice called from above. The three of them froze in place, still interlocked with each other. The entirety of the Straw Hat crew turned their attention to the giant sea beasts that had descended on them, unnoticed during their fight. The owner of that voice was a considerably smaller (but still larger than even Franky) Pike Conger fish...man, riding on the back of one of the beasts. The sea beasts were all some combination of fish and land animal: giraffe, rhino, lion, elephant, gorilla, and bear. 

Interrupted again. Yan was honestly getting tired of being interrupted at every turn. There were so many obstacles in the path the Prescripts had set for him. He ground his teeth. If such was the Prescript’s will.

“Pirates are the enemies of humans too. And of each other. Look, they’re fighting as we speak.” Another Fish-Man said. The trio finally dislodged themselves from each other; Yan letting Zoro’s swords go and Sanji lowering his leg. Zoro and Sanji visibly bristled at being called out, but they didn’t rise to the bait. Yan forced himself to relax his posture as well, his hand returning to its normal size.

The Pike Conger Fish-Man spoke again, seemingly bored now that they weren’t fighting, “You’re the Straw Hats. I know you well. You crushed the ambitions of the Arlong Pirates. If that were all you’d done, this would be much simpler. But two years ago, you protected Hachi, one of Arlong's former officers. And we heard you beat up those detestable Celestial Dragons!” All that meant nothing to Yan. It was all just a string of unfamiliar words and phrases that he didn't care about.

But he just kept going. His voice grated on Yan’s ears, “Your deeds are exactly like those of our beloved Fisher Tiger, the hero of Fish-Man Island. What are we supposed to do with you?” the Pike Conger laughed, and then stopped abruptly, “So tell me, are you with us or against us? Will you submit to the new Fish-Man Pirates or do you refuse?” How easily he could monologue from his perch on high. How Yan wanted to tear him into shreds. 

The thought came unbidden, and he inwardly recoiled. Where had that come from?

“If you refuse, we’ll sink your ship right now!” The Pike Conger ended his negotiations, if it could be called such, with that.

“What did you say!” Luffy yelled back, more out of shock than any genuine confusion.

Behind Luffy, Nami and Franky were having a hushed conversation. They knew their captain well, and knew Luffy was going to refuse and start a fight, which would be paramount to suicide at their depth. Yan found it momentarily interesting that their concern wasn’t so much that they would have to fight, but rather that the conditions weren’t possible for them to do so. The decision to use up the rest of their air to propel the ship away (a Coup De Burst, they called it) was quickly made, and Franky and Usopp rushed to get it ready.

“Now choose! Will you become our vassals, Straw Hat Luffy?”

Yan didn’t even need to see the future to know the answer, and Luffy was far too cheerful when he answered with, “No way! Moron!”

“You refuse the offer of the new Fish-Man Pirates? That makes you the enemy of all Fish-Men!” The Pike Conger called out. The speech was all so prepared, so convenient. He didn’t seem too upset at Luffy’s refusal, in fact, it was like he had been looking for an excuse to slaughter them, “you’re nothing but wicked humans!”

Yet Luffy continued to antagonize him, and then the Sea Lion was bearing down on them, its maw easily able to swallow the ship in one bite. Its razor sharp teeth met empty water as The Thousand Sunny suddenly propelled forward, just in time. And just like Nami had said, the burst of speed was rapidly sucking out all of their air, the bubble deflating and creating a vacuum seal against the ship. It pushed against them, until they were all awkwardly pressed against the lawn like bugs in a glue trap, and they were helplessly propelled towards the bubble surrounding Fish-Man Island.

The ship penetrated the bubble, but the speed of their entrance tore the coating off the ship. They all got to their feet just as Robin called out there were two layers to the bubble, and Yan braced himself against the railing as they went through the second layer. 

Seawater rushed over him, pushing against him from all sides. With the sudden change of pressure and the rapid currents, it was inevitable that they were all thrown off the ship. Yan himself had to let go before he crushed the banister in his grip. They all tumbled through the water, getting thrown this way and that. With the force and trajectory of the current, he couldn’t extend his arms to grab anyone without risk of literally stabbing someone. Yan craned his head towards Luffy, who was being dragged in the opposite direction of him. Damn it!

Yan was pulled into a current with Robin, Nami, Brook, and Franky. No longer being pulled between several different currents, Yan finally reached out and grabbed the four, bracing them against his sides. Robin and Brook were unconscious. In fact, those two, along with Luffy and Chopper, hadn't tried to swim at all when they got thrown into the water. Could they not swim either? Why couldn’t half of them swim?

Nami and Franky seemed apprehensive about this predicament, giving Yan uneasy looks as the current hurtled them who-knows-where, but with a nod to each other they at least understood that hanging onto Yan was the best idea right now, and they grabbed onto each other, securing Robin and Brook between them and Yan’s side. It was only a minute or two, though the speed they were traveling had sent them far from the others, before Yan sensed them closing in on actual land. He kicked his feet, swimming towards it. It was awkward, especially since he was the shortest one, but he managed.

Nami and Franky gasped when they breached the surface of the water, but Robin and Brook were still limp in the groups’ collective hold. “Over there,” Yan said and inclined his head to the nearby beach. It was easier to swim over there with the other two helping, and soon they were dragging themselves onto coarse sand.

Franky turned Robin on her side, just in time for her to cough up a lungful of seawater. He rubbed her back soothingly, whispering something in her ear. Yan suddenly felt like he was intruding and turned to Brook, who was getting a much harsher treatment from Nami. She smacked the back of his head, and Yan had the unfortunate experience of getting a bucket of water coughed directly onto his face. At least Brook couldn’t actually vomit, right? Right?

Yan wiped his face with the inside of his cloak and stood up, giving them time to collect themselves. He wrung out his hair onto Brook’s face (who sputtered. Nami snickered behind her hand). He repeated the motion with his cloak, this time with ample space from the others. Gray water pooled at his feet, but his cloak didn’t look any cleaner. As dry as he would be, he tilted his head to the side, listening. He had been right earlier; being on the island really did make everything much clearer. Yan listened to the sounds of Fish-Men and Merfolk swimming, coral breathing in and out, the distant sound of conversation. The seemingly senseless noises of the island spoke to him, translating themselves into familiar phrases.

To...Between 1 PM and 3 PM, go to the Mermaid Cafe and compliment every employee.

To...Within 24 hours, find and marry someone who has polka-dotted fins.

To...Spit on the ground when any human is within five feet of you.

The direction the Prescripts took was a bit different than what he was used to. The realization shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. He was on a completely different island, far from the City he knew. It only made sense that the wishes of the people here were different. He’d have to get closer to this island’s Heart to know for sure, though.

The others had finally gotten to their feet, drying themselves off. Robin and Brook seemed to be fine as well. Right. He still had them to deal with. Well, there was a simple solution for that.

“Goodbye,” Yan said simply, turning on his heel.

“You’re leaving? Just like that?” Nami called after him, her arm reaching out to him awkwardly, “Look, don’t take what Sanji did to heart. He can be a bit of an idiot sometimes.” 

Yan looked back at her over his shoulder, “Regardless, I did attack him and Zoro. While it would have been ideal to ride along your ship to an island not below the sea,”—he started walking, cloak fluttering as he turned away—“I’ll find my own way from here. It was fun while it lasted.” He could hear the Island’s Voice calling off in the distance. Its Heart was that way, and he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Without another word he disappeared from the pirates’ sight, putting them out of his mind. They didn't come after him.

He turned onto a busy street. Shops made out of rocks and shells lined the streets, bursting to the seams with activity. Fish-Men and Merfolk went about their lives, utterly oblivious to The Straw Hats’ tumultuous arrival. He merged into the crowd. However, it wasn’t as seamless as he would have liked. The residents of Fish-Man Island eyed him warily, giving him a wide berth as he weaved through the crowd. Yan was an invasive species, unwelcome here. At least that was familiar.

To...Close your eyes and throw a dart. If it hits a human, kill them, if it hits a Fish-Man, kill yourself.

He could sense Luffy off in the distance, along with Sanji, Usopp, and Chopper. They were down in a cove near the other end of the island. Zoro had somehow managed to end up somewhere completely different from the others, near what was no doubt the kingdom’s castle. Nami and Brook went off together, but Robin and Franky had split from the group separately. But they were all on the island. He shook them from his thoughts again. They were only distractions to his goal. Luckily for Yan, he didn’t need to cross their paths to get to where he was going.

To...Swallow thirty-three pearls.

His feet slowed to a halt. In front of him was a bus stop with an idle bus. Or, rather, the bus compartment was on the back of a large fish. He didn't question it. He boarded, and sat down on one of the plush seats. 

Nothing happened for a moment, and then the fish bobbed once, twice, and then listed all the way to the side, throwing Yan onto the floor. He stood up, only to be thrown towards the front, only catching himself on a metal box. No, it was a deposit box. So the fish was upset he hadn’t paid the fare. 

Yan sighed and checked the price on the sign. ‘500 Beri,’ it read. He reached for his wallet, even though he knew it wouldn't be there. He didn’t have any money, and even if he did, it would be in Ahn, not Beri. He’d just have to get the money another way, even if it meant resorting to old habits.

To...Order the Super Deluxe Seaweed Salad. Split it with the person you hate the most.

“Get her!” A gruff voice called from outside, and Yan turned his head just in time to witness several men get thrown to the ground by the arms that grew out of their bodies. Nico Robin climbed onto the bus without a care, dropping enough change in the box for the both of them.

“It seems we’re going the same way,” Robin said with a wink. Her voice was relaxed, but it was obvious she was digging for information.

“So it would seem,” Yan answered back, and said nothing more. He turned and sat down at his original seat. Robin chuckled and sat down across from him, throwing one of her arms over the back of the chair. They were the only two on the bus.

With a lurch, the fish under them began to move, swimming lazily through the sea. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, and even the roof was clear, giving them a full view of the ocean. Fish Yan had never seen before today swam by them as they traveled through a water tunnel. It was oddly reminiscent of the subway. 

How odd that the Heart would be off the main island. But the Prescripts’ birthplace had also been under a random, insignificant street, so he guessed it really didn’t matter in the end.

Robin’s gaze may have been out to the sea, but her full attention was on Yan. It was clear she was searching for the right words to say. She tapped her finger against smooth leather, in time with the rhythm of the island. Eventually, she settled on, “You didn’t answer Usopp. Before we fell.” It was said casually, but vaguely. It seemed her method was to get others to incriminate themselves.

“About what?” Yan asked, feigning innocence. He kept his head turned to ‘look’ out the window.

“About what a Prescript is,” Robin threw one leg over the other.

“If I remember correctly, a giant boulder fell right on the octopus's head before I could,” Yan folded his hands in his lap, back straight against the seat.

“But you knew that would happen, didn’t you,” She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee as she cupped her chin in her hand, “that’s why you hesitated to answer. Because you knew you wouldn’t have to.” She was still smiling, but there was no kindness in it. Mask in place. It was a far cry from the woman who had laughed at him over lunch. 

“And?” Yan turned his head towards her, obscuring the lower half of his face in the collar of his cloak, “it was a slip of the tongue. It doesn’t matter.” All it had confirmed was that The Straw Hats, or at least Usopp and now Robin, didn’t know what Prescripts were. It didn’t change anything. Whether they knew or not, their actions would ultimately be in service of the Prescripts. For free spirits such as them, it might actually be better that they didn’t know.

“You may not know this, but I’m an archaeologist. I’ve studied countless cultures and records, but in all my studies, I’ve never heard the term ‘Prescripts’ used the way you use it,” Robin’s tone had lost all humor. Her eyes were daggers, “so tell me, what are ‘Prescripts?’”

To...Cut off the legs off the 12th human you see. Replace them with a Traitor’s.

Yan considered it for a moment. Did he tell her the truth, or how the people understood them to be? “Prescripts are orders, tasks, that must be carried out by those who receive them. The Prescripts are the Island’s will, and the Island’s will is the will of the people who live here.”

When he didn't say anything more, Robin said, “Somehow. I have even more questions than answers from that explanation.”

“There’s no point in questioning them, or understanding them. Prescripts are meant to be fulfilled, that’s all.”

But Robin was undeterred, “Perhaps I would understand better with an example.” 

“Sure,” Yan waited a moment, until he heard the next Prescript, “‘To Maggie...Stomp on the portrait of the late Queen Otohime no more than four times.’”

“How foreboding,” Robin said, still smiling, but with a furrow in her brow as she considered the content of the Prescript, “and do you know who Maggie is?’

“She’s a resident of Fish-Man Island. It’s not like I know her personally,” Yan answered immediately.

“Yet you received her Prescript?”

“No, I only heard it. And I have no need to deliver it to her, whether she fulfills it or not, it will be in service to the Island’s Will,” Yan said, “I have the ability to hear the Will of the Island. The idle chatter between friends, the flow of water between the island’s crevices, even the rocking of the very bus we’re sitting on. All that and more is heard by that Will, and that is what is translated into the Prescripts. The Prescripts are only like that because the people wish them to be.”

Robin leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms, normally. Yan was beginning to realize she crossed her arms in a specific way when she used her powers. “I think I’m beginning to understand, although I don’t like the picture I’m seeing.” 

“Like it or not, that’s just how it is.”

“What about you?” Robin asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do you like it, or not?” 

The bus was deathly quiet. “My purpose is to follow the Prescripts, no matter what they may be.”

“Do you not harbor any doubt towards them? To stomp on the late Queen’s portrait...”

He really didn’t want to have this conversation again. “I used to. But not anymore. The Prescripts are the City’s will, and the City’s volition is my will. To deny the City’s volition is to deny myself. It doesn’t matter if I’m happy, or sad, all that matters is that I know where to go in the immediate future,” Yan said, reciting familiar words, “and that’s enough for me.”

“Oh, Yan...” Robin sighed, hands tightening around her arms. Her gaze was full of pity. He didn’t need it.

“My stop is here,” Yan said abruptly, standing up right before the fish-bus came to a gentle stop.

He sensed Robin hesitate behind him, and then she said, voice subdued, “mine as well.” They disembarked, and the fish-bus lingered. What an obedient fish, to adhere to its schedule so well. In a way, that schedule was its own Prescript.

He didn’t say anything else to Robin, nor did he wait to see if she followed him. He simply started walking. His footsteps crunched against the reef. Behind him, another pair joined in concert.

Two figures walked through the Forest of the Sea, one with their head ever forward, and the other marveling at their surroundings. Corals of all different shapes and sizes adorned the landscape, creating a rather picturesque scene. Their arms reached towards the sun, a child yearning for their mother. The sun from above was even more prominent here, its rays fluttering and shifting in the water. It allowed the forest to grow tall and strong, stretching several stories high. Yan and Robin had to be careful of their step as they entered the forest proper.

Off in the distance, a lone Fish-Man sat upon a hill of coral, gazing solemnly at the marbled grave of the late Queen Otohime. He was reminiscing, but also renewing a vow made long ago. The Whale Shark Fish-Man was named Jinbei. Of course, he did not see the two humans trekking behind the trees, as they were nowhere close to him. Yan was probably the only one who knew he was here.

And on the other side of the forest was Franky, Den, and the Thousand Sunny. The current had dragged the ship here, but it was at least intact. The same couldn’t be said for all the other ships outside the bubble, whose wood served as nutrients for the ecosystem. Outside that barrier, a pod of whales swam by. They called to each other, their song echoing through the sea, telling each other to come here, to come home. The sound bounced off the trees, whistling through its branches in an eerie, siren song. 

And Yan was its hapless victim.

To...Host a snail race. Consume the winner.

To...Make gold from scraps from the Ship Graveyard.

To...On the morning after receiving this Prescript, drink a gallon of algae soup.

“Are you alright?” Robin called from behind him. She had stopped walking. Because Yan had stopped walking.

“The Prescripts are loud here. I was just caught off guard,” and he started moving again, “it was faint when we first arrived here. The closer I get to its birthplace, the clearer it gets.”

"Birthplace?" Robin asked as she stepped over a large root.

"Prescripts are born, not made," he said, not bothering to turn around, "like I said earlier, they're born from the peoples' will."

"And their birthplace is this way?"

"Yes."

Robin stopped, and Yan slowed to a stop several paces ahead. She brought a hand up to her mouth, brow creased. "Is there some sort of connection?" She thought aloud. She shook her head and stood up straight. "Nevermind. How close are we to our destination?"

"A few more minutes," he said, "but why do you assume we're going to the same place?"

Robin smiled, "Call it a hunch," an arm grew from the tree next to Yan, sweeping forward, "please lead the way." Yan wanted to retort that they weren't traveling together, but knew it'd fall on deaf ears. In his short time with these Pirates, he knew that they didn't listen to anyone else.

Besides Luffy.

They walked in silence for another few minutes. Though that couldn't be said for Yan. The Call had only gotten louder. His head felt stuffed to bursting, filled to the brim with senseless noise. The Prescripts scraped at his mind, trying to claw its way out. Like nails against a chalkboard, hard enough to scratch marks on its surface. It was so loud. His face pinched, but he kept moving. Yan parted some branches to reveal a circular clearing. In its center was a large cube, sitting innocently in the clearing. The Heart. The Birthplace. The Poneglyph.

To...Sabotage every 47th bag at the Sweets Factory.

To...Obtain the hair of a human. Weave it into a scarf. Bonus points if they’re blonde.

To...Return Awaken To Hody YourHome Become Immediately Noah DoNotLeave From Until KingOf Fish-Man Its IslandIs Resting Destroyed Place Nothing .

"—an! Yan, are you alright! Can you hear me?" Robin's voice was so close, frantic in his ear. She had an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against her side, her other hand on his knee. He was crouched on the ground, curled in on himself like some inky tumbleweed. His hands were covering his face, and he slowly turned his head in Robin's direction, spreading his fingers to reveal closed eyes.

"What happened?" He asked. His voice was wrong, a mere whisper underneath the sound of the typewriter's keys being hammered. He cleared his throat.

Luckily, Robin seemed to understand him, or at least understood what he was trying to say. "You suddenly collapsed when the Poneglyph came into view. You couldn't seem to hear me. You just kept muttering under your breath, but I couldn't understand what you were saying." She was out of breath. 

Yan turned his head back into his hands, "How long?" His voice was clearer, but it was like the audio levels had been reversed, the typewriter underlying his words.

"Only a minute." A minute too long, in his opinion. Robin ran a hand up and down his back. He knew it was meant to be soothing, but it felt distant, dull. Then, quieter, she asked, "Do you want to stay like this for a moment?"

Yan stood up, and her hands fell off him. The world swayed under his feet, but he managed to stay upright. "No. I just wasn't ready. It was overwhelming. I'm fine now," he said, a little too fast for his liking. At least his voice sounded normal now. Robin stood up after him, but that expression hadn't left her face. Stop pretending to care.

The sound of the Prescripts was still head splitting, but he could manage it, now that he knew what to expect. The only real problem was that he couldn't hear anything else. Everything outside of this clearing was television static in his mind. He should tell Robin at least that much. "However," he cleared his throat again. The strings felt like they were choking him. Robin gave her full attention to him, "I can't extend my...Haki beyond this area." He had almost forgotten their term for it.

She nodded, "Thank you for telling me." Even Robin’s voice was difficult to hear. It was like getting bad frequency on a radio channel, and he had to keep adjusting the antennas so he didn’t miss any of her words. She stepped into the clearing proper, Yan trailing behind her. He was thankful she wasn’t going to press the topic.

Yan was momentarily forgotten as she breathed in awe of the Poneglyph, eyes drinking in every detail of it. Even Yan could barely turn away from it. The cube was easily double their height. It wasn’t made out of steel, or iron, but some other dense material that Yan had never seen before. Yet it had a smooth, steel blue sheen. Moss had grown up over its sides, camouflaging it within the forest. There was a message carved onto one of its faces. It wasn’t in a language Yan was familiar with, yet he understood what it said.

There was a flat rock directly across it, as if purposely placed there for someone to sit on. Yan moved over to it, unclasping his cloak as he went. He folded it once and laid it over the surface, clean side up. He turned over his shoulder. Robin still hadn't budged, the only part of her that moved were her eyes as they devoured the text. She said she was an archaeologist. He should have expected her to be able to decipher its message.

"Robin," he said, and she suddenly exhaled, as if she had been holding her breath, "why don't you sit down." He gestured to the rock. 

Robin chuckled, looking a little caught, "How considerate of you," she said, though it sounded a little forced. Yan knew it wasn't because of him. She sat down on his cloak and brushed her hair behind her ear as she began to read the etchings again. Yan sat down beside her, but put a decent amount of space between them, his thigh just inches from his own cloak. Sitting down made everything much more bearable, though he wouldn’t admit it.

Silence settled between them again. Over the cacophony of noises, Yan heard another. It was different from the others. The Prescripts were akin to an orchestra, a symphony of instruments playing in concert with each other. The Poneglyph was a solo, not singing over the orchestra, not exactly a different song, but accompanying their melody. Nothing would be lost without the Poneglyph, but the performance was simply enhanced.

"I'm curious. Can you read the Poneglyph?" Robin said suddenly. It seemed she was done reading.

Yan nodded, "It's more like hearing it. It's not exactly louder than anything else, but it's the most prominent voice," he tilted his head. The Poneglyph recited its message, and then started again. It was tragic, and it tugged at what was left of his heartstrings.

“You...can hear it?” Her eyes widened slightly. She sounded awestruck. “No, nevermind. What did it say?” Her voice was more level, getting their conversation back on track. 

Her question was a test to see if his claim had held any actual ground. So he recited it out. Joy Boy’s regrets. His broken promises. Yan’s voice didn’t betray any of the emotion that Joy Boy’s had, not like his own portrayal could ever do it justice. 

"But who is it apologizing to?" Robin asked, when he was done, an attempt to open up a discussion.

"The people of Fish-Man Island. The Prescripts are born here, so it makes sense," he said, throwing in the idea.

Robin hummed, "so they are connected,” but didn’t elaborate. It was more just her thinking aloud than anything.

"Does every island have a Poneglyph?" He asked. He needed to confirm. The Prescripts knew everything, but that only extended to the island, the City. Yan was sure if he went somewhere else the island’s will would be different.

"No, the ones that do maintain them as a form of cultural significance, and I have my own theories about that. But I'll admit, this one is a bit different from the other Poneglyphs I've read before. Most recount the history of their nations," Robin said.

Yan let that sink in for a moment. "So if there's a Poneglyph, you can reason that it's also the birthplace of the Prescripts—”

"—But that doesn't necessarily mean an island has to have a Poneglyph to have Prescripts," Robin finished for him. Her eyes sparkled, pleased that what they read lined up. She was finally understanding. Yan wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

"But who is Joy Boy?" Yan asked. 

Robin's shoulders didn't exactly slump, per se, but she was drawn back down to the drawing board. "I don't know either. The Prescripts don't mention him?"

Yan shook his head, "The Prescripts convey the present will of the people. It doesn't relay the past, and It's not quite like predicting the future. They only come true because that’s what the people wish," he reiterated, "sorry, but I don't know who Joy Boy is. If there were someone alive that knew him, maybe I could tell you."

Robin waved him off, "That's fine. I wasn't expecting to find out immediately. Besides," Robin's smile was broad and mischievous as she leaned closer to Yan, her hands braced on smooth stone, "finding out so quickly would ruin the fun, don't you think?"

Yan shouldn't be interested. Yan didn’t need to know. Joy Boy was unrelated to fulfilling Prescripts, even if he wrote this Poneglyph. He should tell Robin that digging into something this deep would only get you hurt, that you would be worse off than when you started. The only thing that awaited you at the end of your journey was just the unfortunate truth. That person, with their loudspeaker head, rested their hands on his shoulders. They didn’t need to remind him. And yet. 

And yet.

"Are we done here," Yan said, and he stood up.

Robin’s face fell, back to cool indifference, mask back in place. Yan reached to pull his collar over his mouth, but halted the motion halfway. Right, Robin was still sitting on his cloak. “I’ve confirmed what I needed to know, have you?” He asked again. They had gotten sidetracked with their conversation, But Yan had completed his immediate goal: he found the Prescripts’ birthplace, and he narrowed down the Prescripts’ Will.

Humans hate us, so We will hate them too, till the end of time.

And their mutual hatred would never cease. It was a battle that had started long before the Poneglyph had been erected, and would continue long after it had turned to dust. The Fish-Man had tried, but all it did was trap them beneath the sea. The cycle would start again and again and again.

Robin gave one last look to the Poneglyph, “It may not have had the information I was looking for, but I still discovered a lot today.”

Yan tilted his head, “You mean about the 100-Year Void.”

A pair of arms grew from his shoulder blades, reaching up and around his neck to pull his head back. It only took her a second to do so. They squeezed his neck threateningly, but didn’t try to choke him yet. Robin didn’t know it’d be a futile effort. Regardless, he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“How did you know that’s what I meant?” Robin demanded. She had kept herself seated, but her posture was tense, ready to fight at any second.

Yan spoke calmly, placatingly, “Like I said, the Prescripts know all. They knew you wanted to know about the 100-Year Void, and so they led you here, that’s all.”

“And you know this, because you can hear them, because they told you,” The hands squeezed just a little tighter.

“Yeah,” he said simply. People always got like this when they received a Prescript they didn’t like, or when they realized just how little free will they had, just how much control the Prescripts had over them. They lashed out, and shot the messenger. 

Robin didn’t say anything for a long moment. Even before becoming a Messenger, Yan had learned when he should nudge others into a certain direction, or let them work it out themselves. Right now, it was the latter. Robin pored over everything she had learned, and was debating if she should let him go or not. Whether he was a threat or an asset. Yan waited for her conclusion.

Finally, the hands disappeared from his neck, and she said, slowly, “As we’ve talked, I've been thinking more about your power, your ability to hear the Prescripts, the Poneglyph,” Robin paused, “as far as I know, there was only one other person before you who could hear the Poneglyphs as well.”

A hush settled over the clearing. A stillness hung in the air. It seemed the world itself was waiting for what Robin would say.

“The King of the Pirates: Gol D. Roger.”

The earth itself trembled at the mere mention of his name, and Yan felt it run up his body, burrowing deep inside his bones. Yan had never heard the name before today, but in an instant he knew who Roger was, who he had been. He was a pirate, a captain, a friend, an enemy, a father, a man who the world turned for, whose very legacy heralded a new age. Yan had never met the man, and never would, but he suddenly missed him terribly.

There was movement in his peripheral. Across the clearing, Yan saw the broad shape of Gol D. Roger’s back. The image of him was so clear, despite never having seen it before. Roger was laughing, a boisterous belly laugh that shook the trees around them, so full that his straw hat tumbled off his head. He leaned back to catch it at the last second, bending over backwards before it could touch the ground. Yan’s closed eyes met Luffy’s upside down smile.

It all happened in an instant, over before he could even process what had happened, the moment shattered by Robin’s voice as she continued her explanation. She hadn’t seen it, after all. “It’s one thing to be able to read the ancient text inscribed on the Poneglyphs, but to hear them is a completely different story. That isn’t Observation Haki, that’s the Voice of All Things!” 

Robin stood up to grab his shoulders with her real hands. He barely felt it. She looked down at Yan with a stern look on her face, “Do you know what that means? What the World Government would do to you, if they found out about that?” There was an edge of panic in her voice, a slip in her aloof persona. Her mask was splintering, her true feelings oozing between the cracks. 

“What?” Yan asked, his brow pinched upwards. With the Poneglyph overwhelming his senses here, he couldn’t use his Haki to foresee what she was about to say.

“They’d kill you. They’d stop at nothing to kill you. The history written on the Poneglyphs is one the government would do anything to hide. Anything,” Robin’s fear was palpable, like someone had pierced her heart with an icicle. The cold spread and spread inside her, freezing her from the inside out like a lake in winter. Her hands trembled on his shoulders. He placed his own over hers, though they provided no warmth.

The men who had attacked her earlier made much more sense, with this information. She may have been a pirate, but she was more than that. She was a threat. Someone with the potential to upset the status quo. Yan knew, all too well, what became of people like that. Nico Robin was a blossoming flower. One that no one knew what it would bloom into. Would she be a beautiful one, or a poisonous one. It was too much to risk, so better to nip it in the bud.

He thought about what kind of life she must have led, for an archaeologist to turn to piracy. Perhaps, that was her only option. “Your crew...your friends will protect you,” Yan said quietly. He squeezed her hands lightly, the metal of his chains clinked.

Robin smiled, like she was tasting an expired candy from her childhood, “But who will protect you?”

“No one. I don’t expect anyone to,” he dropped his hands, “thanks for the advice, though, I’ll make sure to keep it a secret.” A distant part of Yan didn’t care. Those types of problems were so inconsequential to him. The World Government could do whatever they wanted to him. They could try. Pirates. Marines. None of them mattered if it meant he could complete his Prescripts. If they blocked his path he would simply eliminate them.

Robin looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes took in his features, studying him just like the Poneglyph. She, too, dropped her hands with a loud sigh. "Of course. Just... keep my words in mind. People like us have to look out for one another.” She leaned her weight on one leg, arms wrapped loosely around her bare midriff.

“We should go,” Yan said, and ducked his chin, already turning to move away. She watched his back as he grabbed his cloak, securing it back in place. He moved to the edge of the clearing. He stepped one leg over a large root, and then turned over his shoulder. Robin hadn’t moved. “I sensed Franky nearby earlier. I can at least take you to him.” 

Robin blinked in surprise, and then laughed behind her hand. She walked over, strides confident and sure. He held out his hand for her, and she took it as she climbed over the root. “Yan, you’re rather shy, aren’t you?” She winked at him.

He dropped her hand, tucking his chin under his collar. He didn’t answer as they walked away from the Poneglyph, her laughter ringing behind him. It was a quiet sound, yet clear, like a bell, and he didn’t have to tune the radio to hear it.

Chapter Text

Just keep my words in mind .

That’s what Robin had said, but what was there to even think about? Luffy’s offer to join their silly pirate crew? They may have opened his book, but they didn’t own him. They had gone to the Library to retrieve his book, they should have known that Yan only obeyed the Prescripts.

Wait.

Wasn’t there something wrong, with that train of thought?

The Straw Hat Pirates didn’t know about the Prescripts, nor the Library, despite it being a Star of the City. Which meant that they hadn’t gone there at all. It wasn’t adding up. Had someone else gone there, collected his book, and given it to the Straw Hats? Then again, they were pirates. It was just as likely they had pillaged it off the true culprit. 

Were they strong enough for that, though? Subduing a giant octopus and defeating someone like Binah were two completely different ballparks.

Yan could always...ask. Robin had been rather forthcoming with information, despite her aloof nature. People like us , she said.

“Robin?” 

“Yes?” They were walking side by side. Even with her heels, the woman was ridiculously tall. At least she didn’t have Gloria’s habit of patting his head or playing with his hair.

(He didn’t think about Gloria.)

“How,” Yan started, “did you get my book?”

Robin didn’t seem alarmed by the sudden, seemingly random question. In fact, she seemed quite pleased, for some reason. “It was a bit strange. I went into our ship’s library and saw a book I had never seen before. When I asked the others about it, they didn’t know anything about it either.” He didn’t sense that she was lying.

“And then you opened my book?” It was the next logical step. He could see how it played out. Robin asked her crewmates, and with no real answer, she decided to open the book herself.

“Luffy did. He was curious, which was quite odd. He doesn’t care for reading, you see,” she chuckled, “but he must have sensed you inside it, somehow. Our captain can be quite perceptive at times.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she said that, like she was remembering some inside joke.

“And then I was here.”

“Indeed.”

Yan didn’t say anything after that, and they fell back into contemplative silence. It seemed they didn’t know anything either, and the only one with any idea was Luffy, of all people. Yan would have to ask the pirate himself if he wanted to know more.

Although, he had already asked. Yan had asked why. Because you were crying . He still wasn’t sure where Luffy got the notion from, but regardless, the comment had taken Yan so off guard that he hadn’t thought to follow up. The comment could have been made for that very purpose, but Luffy didn’t seem particularly cunning. The pirate seemed to say whatever came to his mind, regardless of the consequences. 

There was no way that was the reason he opened his book. What a stupid reason it was.

Yan knew the purpose of his invitation had been to fall in that Library. He was meant to be bait, a lure to draw Hana’s attention and classify the Library as an Impuritas Cavitas. But that empty-eyed woman, Binah, had only been toying with him in the end. He doubted even Hana stood a chance against her, let alone the other librarians tucked away.

That left only the Color Fixers, and then the Head itself.

The Reverberation Ensemble. Argalia.

(Yan didn’t think about the man. How he talked to Esther but his words were really meant for Yan. How the man looked into his soul and saw him for the Distortion he was. What would have happened, if Esther hadn’t spoken up at that moment?

Silly Yan, still daydreaming.)

He wished he had a pen and paper to write with, to help sort out his thoughts. He wasn’t getting anywhere, thinking about this. But did it really matter? Regardless of how he got here, all that mattered was that he completed his Prescripts. Yes, just like a tricky Prescript, the answers would reveal themselves in time.

To...Count the grains of sand in your hourglass.

It was easy to hear the collective's thoughts and emotions, even more so if he went to the Heart of the island. On the individual person, he had to actually focus, unless their feelings were so strong that they reached him on their own. He had felt it with that ghost ship, with Jinbei, and then with Robin.

That was the problem with this new power of his: he knew whether he wanted to or not.

Yan stretched out his senses (his Haki, he kept reminding himself) to encompass the island again, now that he actually could again. Somehow, in the short time Yan hadn’t been paying attention, things had devolved into a mess. The atmosphere of the island had shifted, and the very air weighed down on his shoulders.

There was a Fish-Man named Hody Jones, who had managed to seize the royal palace itself. Over the island’s intercom system, Hody was giving a speech about how he, alone, was the new king of Fish-Man Island, and that not only was he going to execute the King Neptune for that position, but also everyone who had supported Queen Otohime’s cause and signed her pledge for peace. He even captured Zoro, Usopp, and Brook, and planned to use their heads, alongside the rest of the Straw Hats’, as an example of what would happen to humans who dared to interfere with Hody’s agenda.

Of course, there was no need to say it in as many words, and so Yan summarized the events for Robin, who listened attentively. He was quietly grateful that she didn’t question the pivot in conversation, and that she believed him. 

“So. That Prescript you told me about did come true,” Robin said, once he was done.

“I told you,” Yan said as he tilted his chin into his cloak, “everything is in service of the Prescripts’ Will.”

“Is there truly nothing that can be done?”

“Technically, if everyone’s will changes, then so too does the trajectory of the Island’s. Though,” his voice was steady as he spoke, “it’s not that simple.”

Robin was considering his words with a worried look on her face, so Yan went on to say, “Your friends should just be over there,” he said, pointing in front of him. It seemed some of the others had joined up with Franky in Robin’s absence, “though Luffy is arguing with some guy named Jinbei.” And Princess Shirahoshi herself was even there. Yan wasn’t even going to ask how that had happened.

“Jinbei? As in former Warlord of the Sea, Jinbei?” Robin asked, eyebrows raised. Yan had never heard of the title before, but it felt right, so he nodded.

“And they’re fighting now,” Yan informed dryly. They were all so quick to violence. Didn’t they get tired? Though, it wasn’t like he could talk, having resorted to blows with Sanji and Zoro earlier. The Prescript’s Will must be affecting him more than he thought.

(Was it though? Or wasn’t he always like this?)

“Oh? Who’s winning?” Robin’s tone was teasing. If she wasn’t concerned then Yan wasn’t going to worry about it either.

“It’s a tie right now, but my money’s on Jinbei,” he said. The noise of their fight could be heard as they neared the ship graveyard. Loud punches that sent shockwaves through the trees and scared off the local wildlife.

“Bold words from someone who couldn’t even pay the bus fare,” Robin chuckled behind her hand. Through the treeline, the outline of Luffy and Jinbei’s forms came into view. While it wasn’t a fight to the death, it was the first time Yan had seen Luffy actually fight seriously. And also the first time he looked angry. 

Yan was about to comment when Robin suddenly held a finger up her lips. She winked down at him, “Shall I stop them? For the sake of your wallet?” The question was rhetorical, because a moment later there was a second Robin standing between Luffy and Jinbei, poised with an enigmatic smile. 

“That’s enough,” the Fake-Robin said, hands held up in a placating gesture. Not that it would do much, they were going too fast for them to stop their fists.

“Hey! Get outta the way, Robin!” Luffy’s fist was coiled behind him.

“Who are you? Stay out of this!” Jinbei yelled as well. Neither of them were hesitating to go right through Robin if they had to. 

“Robin’s in danger!” With a surprising burst of speed, Sanji leaped over to wrap his arms around her in a protective embrace. Except, he didn’t have to look so gross about it, salivating and panting as he rushed over. It seemed none of them realized this Robin was a fake.

Right as Sanji’s arms wrapped around Fake-Robin, she disappeared, leaving behind a few pale petals. Yan witnessed a glorious moment where Luffy and Jinbei punched each other in the jaw, but not without knocking into Sanji first. The sound echoed like a strike at a bowling alley, and the three fell to the ground in a shocked and battered heap.

“Impressive display,” he said with a slight tilt of his head. 

Robin chuckled and took that moment to step out from their hiding place. “Yan informed me of what was going on,” she said smoothly, “but aren’t you two friends? Don’t fight.” She walked over to the group, who greeted her warmly.

Luffy and Jinbei recovered quickly, both sitting up. The latter went on to say, “Think about it, Luffy! What do you think would happen if you started fighting Hody on Fish-Man Island?” Jinbei exclaimed, picking up where he left off before they arrived, “Every time the Fish-Men have opened their hearts to humans, it has led to tragedy, time and again.”

“‘Humans are brutal creatures. Humans hate and despise Fish-Men,’” Yan said casually as he untangled his cloak from a wayward bush, sharp fingers careful so he didn’t rip it any further, “is what you were about to say, right, Jinbei?” Cloak free, he stepped out from the underbrush and into the view of the Fish-Man.

Jinbei looked at Yan with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. A mixture of shock and apprehension. Even if Yan hadn’t used his Haki to predict Jinbei’s next sentence, it wasn’t exactly difficult to guess. He had heard it himself earlier, after all. Jinbei didn’t say anything. Nor did the others, the atmosphere still uneasy from their unfinished argument from earlier.

Yan took the silence as his cue to continue, and turned his head towards Luffy as he followed behind Robin, “He’s right, you know. You defeated Arlong way back when, right? Defeating Hody too would just make him a martyr and you an easy scapegoat.” Yan wondered if he should have said it at all. Giving unsolicited advice hadn’t worked out for him in the past.

“Another Fish-Man struck down for rebelling against the humans!” Jinbei continued, emboldened that someone was on his side, “It would seem as though history were repeating itself! That’s ”—he hammered his fist onto the ground—“what they would believe!” And it would be repeating itself. Jinbei, it seemed, had a thorough understanding of the Prescripts’ Will, even if he didn’t know it himself.

“Hold on, Jinbei. Yan,” Sanji said from his bed of sand and coral. He took a long drag of his cigarette, “We still need to save our captured friends. And if we don’t do something, Fish-Man Island will fall into Hody’s hands.” Robin shot a slantwise look over at Yan. He didn’t react.

Sanji sat up slowly, turning over his shoulder to look over at the Octopus Fish-Man lying nearby. “Hey, Hachi,” So that was their supposed guide. He was covered in hastily wrapped bandages, his wounds still oozing blood. “You kept refusing to tell us who roughed you up. But didn’t you just say that Hody would kill any Fish-Men who were friendly with humans?” Sanji spoke gravely, “Did they attack you because you sided with us?”

To...Remove the thorn from your side. Do not use your hands.

The bombshell had all eyes on Hachi, all filled with mixed emotions. Some contemplative, others concerned. It was Luffy’s look that piqued Yan’s interest though. There was a determined set in his jaw, yet it was like he was looking through Hachi, rather than at him. It was like he was seeing some bigger picture. For the few short hours he had known Luffy, the pirate seemed like a simple creature of wants and needs, someone who only thought about the immediate future, regardless of the consequences, and not someone who put forethought into the larger scene at play. But Yan couldn’t tell what Luffy was thinking at this moment, and it put him on edge.

“And remember this, Jinbei,” Sanji got to his feet and wiped chalky dust from his pants, “Another reason Luffy wants to beat Hody is because you live here too. We can’t just sit here and watch. We have a reason to fight!” 

It was an impressive speech. Piracy wasn’t exactly a common occupation back home, and Yan didn’t think they held much loyalty for each other. Fixer offices were the closest equivalent he had, but even they went where the money led. It was refreshing to see actual kindne—“Because Camie’s here! And Shirahoshi! This land is the Mermaid Paradise of my dreams!” 

Nevermind.

Yan sighed. It was quiet, yet Sanji heard it all the same. His cheerful demeanor swung like a pendulum all the way back to ‘righteous’ anger. With a few long strides, Sanji was right in front of Yan, using his height to tower over Yan. “Hah? Got a problem with that?” Was he serious? Was he still mad from earlier, or was Sanji just that affronted that Yan wasn’t as girl crazy? 

Sanji punctuated his statement by jabbing his finger at Yan’s chest. Sanji had only intended to poke Yan, maybe even knock him off balance, but the strength of his simple poke had thrusted half of Sanji's hand past his strings, right into the hollow of his chest. His hand went in all too easily, and the feeling could only be described as uncomfortable. It didn't hurt, but the sensation of having someone's hand suspended in his chest was nothing short of deeply jarring. Yan could feel every bump on Sanji’s skin, all the scratches and nick marks on his fingers, odd calluses and flecks of ash dust. 

The startling sensation had cut off Yan’s retort, and Sanji was just as flabbergasted, his cigarette a falling star between them. He was completely shocked out of his earlier tantrum, and a myriad of emotions crossed Sanji’s face. There was disgust, which was irritating, to the point that Sanji actually looked a little nauseous. Yan had already been vomited on once today, and he wasn’t keen on experiencing it again with an actual, alive, human. There was also something akin to horror, as the implications of what he had done settled across his skin.

But hidden under Sanji’s paling skin, there was something else. His breath was coming in short, shallow huffs as perspiration beaded on his brow. He was spiraling into something more complex than his eyebrows. It was like Sanji was on the verge of a panic attack. Sanji was afraid.

Afraid of Yan? For being slightly different from the rest of them? That was rich, given that Luffy stretched like rubber and they had a literal skeleton amongst their crew. Sanji may be taller than him, but he needed to grow up.

Sanji's finger twitched, and it brushed against his strings where his heart should be. The motion was slight, imperceptible to anyone else, but it was like striking against a live wire. Yan’s whole body flinched, and his face contorted against his will. “Get your hand out of my chest!” He hissed, just loud enough for Sanji to hear. Honestly, he should be applauded for his composure.

But Yan didn’t wait for his answer. He just snatched Sanji’s wrist back, ripping him off like a bandaid. Sanji didn’t fight him, still lost in his own world. The man let out a shuddering breath as his hand hung limply by his side, as if he was the one who had been struck. 

“Oh my God, please do not fight again,” Nami whined, rubbing at her temples. Sanji’s back had been to the group, and it had obscured his transgression from view.

"I'm not fighting," Yan pulled his cloak tighter around his chest. It was a subconscious, defensive action that he immediately regretted showing them. But it was too late. While their short fight had gone largely unnoticed, Yan’s reaction had. Which meant Luffy and Jinbei stopped their argument to observe theirs. Just great. “Blame Sanji.” It was an immature thing to say, but it was also the truth.

Without waiting for a response, or a chance for Sanji to refute his statement, Yan turned on his heel and stalked off. Behind him, he heard a sarcastic “nice going,” from Franky. Yan kept his arms clutched tightly around himself, shoulders hunched as he created some much needed distance from the others. No, from Sanji.

He hadn't really thought about how dull Robin's touch from earlier had been, but Sanji's hand in his chest cavity had felt borderline overwhelming. He could still feel the phantom sensation of Sanji’s fingers, and he rubbed harshly at his strings to get rid of it. It helped, marginally.

He breathed in deeply, more of a mental act than actual need, his lungs reduced to rotten threads. Sanji somehow got under his skin like no other. It wouldn’t be so annoying, if he just knew why Sanji hated him. There was something personal there, but he had no clue what it could be. Clearly Yan had done something in his past to earn Sanji’s ire. But that could literally be anything. He had burned a lot of bridges before going to the Library.

It didn’t matter. Yan doubted they would ever see each other again, after today. Sanji would sail away on their stupid boat, off on some grand adventure, and Yan—

—Walked face first into a soapy wall. He stumbled back a few steps, nearly tripping over his own cloak. How irritating. The bubble layer was so thin that he hadn’t even noticed it until he nearly walked into what amounted to a hydraulic press. Yan took in his surroundings. He had gone off in a random direction, and it had led him to the reef where several ships laid crushed at the bottom of the ocean, their bodies collapsed on top of each other like a pile of sodden corpses. 

His reflection stared back at him, though he couldn’t—wouldn’t—see it. Yan could not bear to look into his own eyes. But he didn’t turn around. The pirates were still there, still having that inane argument about whether or not they would fight Hody Jones. Yan knew they would, the only unknown was the how . But what about him? What would he do?

Where could he go?

His reflection did not answer him. She never did.

His path had been so clear, back home. Receive a Prescript, and carry it out. Yan had yet to be given a Prescript of his own. And without one, he didn’t know what to do. He was stuck in a perpetual limbo. What did that mean, for someone like him, whose only purpose was to carry out Prescripts?

A tipped over chair welcomed him home.

Yan discarded the image as quickly as it had come. He just needed to be patient. His Prescript would come. The City, the Island, knew where he should go next. It simply wasn’t time, so he needed to stop questioning things. He had vowed to never question the Prescipt’s Will again.

(So why did he keep doing it?)

The breath he took this time shuddered more than he would have liked. Receive a Prescript . He exhaled. And carry it out. That’s all he had to do. He repeated the words in his head, swallowed his thoughts, and slowly stretched his Haki back out to the mainland, putting the rest off till later.

Things were only getting worse as time passed. The situation was devolving into chaos as Hody’s supporters took their vendetta out on the civilians, no longer satisfied with just the military. It seemed even the official army hadn't been enough to take him down. One flick of water from Hody was stronger than any bullet, strong enough to shoot through several buildings. Did Luffy really intend to fight someone like that?

Humans versus Fish-Men, as the Prescripts intended.

There was the crunch of shells and gravel. It stopped, just a few feet behind him.

“What do you want?” Yan didn’t turn around. A slight breeze drifted tailwind of him, and the scent of smoke wafted through his hair. Slightly acrid, but also a bit like caramel. 

“Our beloved Nami-swan told me I should apologize,” Sanji said, moving to stand beside Yan,  “and unlike you, I always listen to beautiful ladies.” 

He just couldn’t resist the jab, could he?

“Being beautiful has nothing to do with who I listen to,” he released his hands from his middle, and his arms hung like a cut marionette’s, “and I don’t really need your apology if you don’t mean it.”

“Look, man,” Sanji sighed and shook a hand through his hair, as if it would help him find the right words, “this is hard for me, you know?” 

“Apologizing? How spoiled.” Yan didn’t bother putting up a polite front. The bridge had been burned.

“No, not that!” hastily said, and then, under his breath, “I’m really fucking this up,” he was. Sanji was terrible at this. The man sighed again, louder, his body deflating with it. “I just want to know why you’re here.” His hand still hadn’t left his hair, the blond locks caught in a tight grip. He sounded tired, all of a sudden.

That was what Yan had been trying to figure out all day. “Maybe I was sent here to die. This is a graveyard after all.” 

“Yeah,” Sanji scoffed, derisive, “for ships.” He brought his cigarette to his lips as his other hand fell back to his side, and Yan pretended not to notice how Sanji’s shaking fingers stilled.

“Am I not broken, just like them? Were you not disgusted by my body?” And, oh, they were lucky. Yan knew what he truly looked like, and it was so much worse.

 “H-Hey, I never said that!”

“It was obvious in your face. You looked ready to throw up,” This time, it was he who marched up to Sanji. The tips of their shoes bumped, and Yan tilted his head all the way up to face Sanji. “Even now, you can barely stand to look at me.”

(Out of hearing distance, poorly hidden behind a tree of anemone, Chopper covered his open mouth with his hooves as Nami muttered a “Oh God. He made it worse.”)

Sure enough, Sanji had been looking at Yan’s iridescent reflection during the course of their conversation. With Yan in his space, he had nowhere else to look but at the Distortion himself. This close, Yan tracked the bug-like movement of his eyes, felt Sanji’s shallow breath against his nose. “What did I do, to make you so scared of me?”

“It’s not you,” Sanji’s voice was choked, hoarse and quiet. His composure was slowly crumbling before Yan like a peeling portrait. Layers of oil paint falling to the ground in strips.

“It’s not?”

“It’s—” and his eyes fell downwards, down to his cloak, his gaping chest, the ink staining his pants, and then snapped back up to his face. Ah. So that’s what it was. Sanji wasn’t scared of Yan, he was scared of what Yan represented. The Index. Perhaps, like Robin, he was also on the run, had turned to piracy to escape the consequences of a failed Prescript.

“So you know.” About the Prescripts. Yan had assumed that because Robin and Usopp hadn’t, then surely the rest didn’t either. How foolish of him. Yan would not make the mistake again.

Sanji nodded frantically, and squeezed his eyes shut. He blindly clasped down on Yan’s shoulders in a sudden act of self-soothing, body hunched over in an effort to make himself smaller. “I just want to know why you’re here!” He sounded like a child, whiny and desperate because nothing made sense in this cruel world, seeking answers from an adult who would lie to him.

The man’s body bent like a cricket, his brown loafers pointed towards the concrete sky.

Yan shot a look at their voyeurs, and they quickly scurried out of sight. Yan knew if it were him in this situation, he wouldn’t want anyone to see. He turned back to Sanji and gave the taller man his full attention. “I know just as much as you about this situation. But I’m not here to hurt you,” Yan was not a Proxy. He didn’t dole out punishment, and even they needed to be ordered to act.

Sanji’s eyes snapped open, shimmery blue marbles in a glassy pond. “You’re not here to take me back? Or—” he cut himself off, swallowing the rotten pit of his words.

“I can’t refuse orders,” Sanji flinched, “but I haven’t been given one. I'm beginning to think ive been discarded," the last bit slipped out before Yan even realized it, and he quickly changed the subject, "How long have you been gone?”

“Thirteen years,” he breathed. Sanji appeared to be in his mid-twenties to early thirties, which meant he must have fled when he was, at the oldest, a teenager. That was a typical age to have a crisis of faith, not so typical to have the courage to actually commit to fleeing. Still, that was a long time to go unpunished. Most failures were dealt with within a week. 

But the Prescripts were unpredictable.

“I think, at this point, you don’t have to worry,” Yan spoke gently, familiarly, like he was guiding someone through a particularly difficult Prescript, “I should have realized my presence would make you think otherwise.” His heavy cloak was not swayed by the breeze, but his hair was, and it flowed softly and away from his face. If Yan was meant to deal with Sanji, then surely he would have received a Prescript by now.

Surely.

To...Speak in only 5-7-5 count to Fish-Men and 7-5-7 count to humans. Switch every time someone comments.

Sanji sniffed, a loud and ugly snort, his face contorted in a way that said he was trying to hold back tears. But the eyes that tried to look into Yan's were full of resolve, a decision made. It was a conflicting image, and one Yan worried his eyebrows to work out the meaning of. But then Sanji’s face was gone, because he had pulled Yan up into his toes and into a bone-crushing hug, chin propped on Sanji’s shoulder. Yan stiffened, his arms pinned to his sides.

“I’m sorry. For fighting you, for doubting you,” Sanji buried his face into Yan’s shoulder, pulled him a little closer, “for not giving you a chance.”

This crew seemed haunted by their pasts. Maybe that was why they were so quick to offer affection, and seek it in return. Luffy’s hands on his shoulders, Robin’s touch on his back, Sanji’s arms around him. Yan was too far gone to feel any of them.

But, slowly, he returned Sanji’s embrace. Yan hadn’t hugged someone in...he couldn’t remember how long, and didn’t really know what to do anymore. He ran a hand up and down Sanji’s back in a poor impersonation of what Robin had done for him, the action just a bit too stiff. But it was enough, and Sanji slumped against him, unconsciously putting more of his weight onto Yan. He stumbled onto the flats of his feet, but kept them steady.

Those who failed to complete their Prescripts were usually driven to paranoia by the end of the day. A week and they were jumping at every noise, nails bitten down to bloody stumps, knife poised against anyone who approached them. Sometimes, they issued the punishment themselves. Yan could not imagine what thirteen years would do to a person. 

So he let Sanji have this moment. 

Yan didn’t say anything. He didn’t comment on Sanji’s trembling shoulders, nor the growing water stain on his own. He had said the words Sanji needed to hear, even if they weren't true at all. He couldn’t guarantee that the Index wouldn’t come after Sanji, and wouldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep. Promises were often broken.

“You’re not broken,” Sanji murmured, voice muffled by fabric. It was said, for the both of them.

“Even so, I’ll never return to how I was before.” Only a thin layer of viscous fluid separated Yan and a horde of shattered exoskeletons, left to rot at the bottom of the ocean, shouldering and clawing against their watery grave. The strain only caused them to fall apart more and more, until all they could do was cry out at the unfairness of their unfinished voyage. Abandoned with no hope of ever going home and not a soul to mourn them.

And was he not a ghost, haunting his own vessel?

“Is that so bad, though?” Sanji pulled back, hands firm on Yan’s biceps, “no one can go back to how they were in the past. We couldn’t, so we became stronger, so that nothing could hurt us again.”

Yes, the Straw Hats' two year separation. Yan remembered the conversation over shrimp and rice. Their journey was prematurely ended by one Bartolomeow Kuma; a single, deciding instance that changed the trajectory of their lives. And yet, they still found their way back to each other, stitched back together by the invisible thread of fate.

To...Tie off your friends with a Blood Knot.

"Do you really believe that? That just because you're stronger now you'll never get hurt again.”

"I don't. But I know I have to try. And I’ll keep getting stronger. Because if I don't then I'll truly lose everyone I care about," there was an unspoken again that tickled at the back of Yan's throat. 

"Right. Camie, and Shirahoshi. The mermaid paradise of your dreams," Yan's eyes rolled behind his eyelids.

"Don't forget Nami-swan and Robin-chwan!"

"And Nami-swan and Robin-chwan," Yan drawled. Sanji gave him an indignant look, looking ready to argue all over again. 

And then he laughed. Open-mouthed and sharp baritone. "You sound," and he burst into another bubble of laughter, "so stupid. It doesn't suit you when you say it.” His laughter crinkled around his eyes, made the swirl of his odd eyebrows curl like peeling paper.

“Maybe don’t give them such ridiculous nicknames, then.”

"Don't insult the ladies!" And Sanji kicked at his shin.

"I'm not, I'm insulting your naming sense," Yan said it placidly, even as he flicked back his cloak so Sanji didn’t step on it.

The motion brought Sanji’s attention back to his chest, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, again, about,” he gestured vaguely to the entirety of Yan, “y’know.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, hiding the twitch of his fingers.

“Just don’t do it again, or I might really have a reason to cut you,” Yan stepped away.

“As if you could!” The kick this time was leveled at his ribs. Yan pushed it back with a simple pass of his hand.

“Please save your fighting for Zoro,” Yan shook out his hand, rings and chains tinkling, “he might get jealous.” He mainly just didn’t have the mental energy to deal with it.

He didn’t expect the blush that coated over Sanji’s face, like someone had flicked paint across his cheeks. “Jealous!? He only has swords for brains!” 

“Do you want him to get jealous?” Yan crouched down to wipe some dust off his shoes. A leg swept over where his head had just been. “Weren’t you the one who said you still had to rescue your friends. I’m sure he’d be flattered if you told him as such.”

“I-You’re just messing with me!” The rose on Sanji’s cheeks had bloomed, though his posture was full of thorns.

Yan stood up straight, stretching out his legs as he went. He hummed, “I’m doing no such thing, but you shouldn’t keep him or the others waiting any longer,” he said, “thank you for your apology.”

The dismissal was clear, but Sanji didn’t move. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and then said, “It’s not exactly safe here for you either. If you help us out, we can at least take you to the next island.”

That was an interesting proposition, and an advantageous one. So far, Fish-Man Island didn’t have what he needed, and it looked like even if he stayed that would be the case. If he left, maybe he could find out what happened to the City, how he got here.

There was a whisper in the back of his mind. Yes, Yan should do just that.

“You mean in your inevitable fight against Hody Jones?”

“Yeah, unless you’re scared.”

Yan didn’t rise to the bait. “I can agree to those terms.” It wasn’t the Prescript just for him, but the larger Will of the Island was good enough. His involvement would serve to further that.

Sanji grinned, oblivious to Yan’s thoughts.

“You guys are back!” Luffy waved his arm recklessly as Yan and Sanji approached, the limb stretching and retracting with every arc.

“Did you bros make up?” Franky laughed loudly as Chopper scampered up to Sanji. The reindeer—again, reindeer?—wrapped his arms around Sanji’s leg in a hug.

Sanji startled, but covered it up with a shrug, “yeah, we’re fine now,” Sanji placed a comforting hand on Chopper’s blue cap. There was a small smile on his face as he looked down at the reindeer. Yan nodded at Robin’s, frankly, intense stare.

Nami marched up to them, and placed her hands on her hips. “While you guys were having your little spat, the rest of us were discussing roles,” she said, all business, like she hadn’t been eavesdropping herself, “Robin and I are gonna steal the Celestial Dragons’ document and the keys to the King’s shackles, while Jinbei pretends to get captured. But we still need to find a way to rescue everyone else from the castle.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Yan cut in, and all eyes were suddenly on him. He hated being the center of attention, but he continued, “they’ve already broken out. All we’ll have to do is pick them up.” The one upside to the chaos happening over there was that  no one was keeping an eye on Zoro’s group. Jinbei blinked at him in surprise again. 

But before Jinbei could comment, Luffy outright cackled and stretched his arm to wrap it around Yan’s shoulders. Yan was already braced for it before he was pulled against Luffy’s side, cheek squished against Luffy’s own. “See, Jinbei! My crew’s pretty impressive!”

“I’m not part of your crew,” Yan said as he dislodged himself from Luffy’s grasp.

Luffy was undeterred by his curt response, and was already making grabby hands at Yan’s own. What resulted was a rather childish display wherein Yan would swipe his hands away, only for Luffy to stretch his arms out and try again. 

“Wait, ‘we?’” It was Franky who noticed the choice of words, and he flipped up his sunglasses to raise an eyebrow at Yan.

Yan looked up at Franky, not bothering to pause his movements. Luffy wasn’t playing fair, so Yan transformed his own arms into chains. “Yeah, Sanji said if I helped out, you’d take me to the next island,” he faced Luffy, whose tongue was poked out in concentration, “if that’s alright with the Captain.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Luffy said, not really listening. Yan pulled his arm back–“A-ha!”–and Luffy lunged for the spot his wrist would end up. His fingers met air when Yan gave it to gravity instead.

“I was also told I would be paid for my efforts,” Yan ignored Nami’s scandalized gasp to weave his arm up and under Luffy’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luffy was trying to be discreet and coil an arm around Yan’s to trap him, while his other hand did double duty to seize both of Yan’s.

“And that I’d be allowed any spoils of war,” Luffy almost had him there, but Yan bent his wrist forward in a motion that would break any normal person’s. Luffy’s nostrils flared.

“I got it, so just—”

“He’s pulling the wool over your eyes, Luffy!” Jinbei, surprisingly, called out. Yan inwardly sighed. He was about to ask if he could borrow a boat. He knew the Sunny had some.

Luffy didn’t seem to care and had finally gotten ahold of Yan’s wrists. He held them above their heads with a cry of victory, their arms twisted in knots of metal and rubber.

“Not gonna lie, they look kinda freaky like that,” Franky the cyborg, who could shoot missiles out of his arms and walked around in a speedo, said.

“Are you two done yet?” Nami sighed. Robin giggled behind her hand, but otherwise didn’t say anything.

Luffy laughed, an odd ‘shishishi’ sound, as they slowly unwound their arms. “Next time, don’t let me win!” 

It felt like a premonition, a similar sensation to receiving a Prescript.

The group moved quickly after that, with everyone shuffling into their roles. Yan was appalled when he watched Luffy climb into Megalo’s—Shirahoshi’s pet shark—mouth, until Robin explained the rest of Jinbei’s plan to Yan and Sanji: Jinbei was going to act as a decoy and get captured, and then Luffy would appear and save him to both garner the citizen’s support and show they were on the same side. Shirahoshi would be hidden nearby, in case Luffy or Jinbei needed to protect her from a flying projectile from Vander Decken. The girls would get the documents and free the King, and then the Royal Family would flee to safety while the rest of them stayed behind to fight.

Yan didn’t know why Luffy had to climb in the shark’s mouth for that, though.

It was a decent plan, but it depended entirely on the group’s capabilities to carry it out. In Yan’s opinion, it left too much room for things to go wrong. But it wasn’t like Jinbei had time to prepare a more thorough plan. It was probably the best he could do, given the circumstances. Even when Yan informed the group that the Princes had been captured as well, nothing about the plan really changed.

So while Luffy, Jinbei, Shirahoshi, and Megalo went off in their group, the rest dropped off Nami and Robin near the town square, and then made a detour to go pick up Zoro, Usopp, Brook, and Camie’s friend Pappagu.

With everyone’s eyes on the square and the impending execution, it was too easy to just sail over to Ryugu Castle. Franky didn’t even try to hide the Thousand Sunny. And sure enough, when they arrived the quartet were waiting for them by the front doors, broken off its hinges, standing around as if they were being picked up from work and not a literal insurrection.

They boarded the Thousand Sunny all too casually, and upon seeing Yan Brook asked, “Oh? Are you joining after all, Yan?” If there was one benefit to keeping his eyes closed, it was that Yan could avoid looking directly at Brook without worry of coming off as rude. Honestly, were none of them creeped out about the talking skeleton ?

“No. Luffy agreed to take me to the next island if I helped out,” Yan said absently. He was keeping an eye on Luffy’s group, and there was already a kink in the plan. Shirahoshi was supposed to be on standby in a safe area, but she had gotten captured with Jinbei and Megalo. “We should hurry, though, the Princess got captured with them.”

Sanji, Usopp, and Brook yelled out in shock, aghast that the princess was in mortal peril, and it took Chopper explaining the plan for them to calm down. Franky was about to use another Coup De Burst when a whale several times larger than their ship swam in front of them. No, not just any whale, but the King’s pet whale. Franky had to jerk the wheel all the way to avoid sailing right into the beast. 

“What’s its deal?” He asked, exasperated as it ignored all his attempts to maneuver around it.

The whale let out a shrill cry, and adamantly stood in their path. It...wanted to come with them? Yan could sense its desire to save its master. Chopper spoke up before Yan had to. “He says he wants to help us. He’ll tow the boat!” Chopper translated.

“I won’t object to that!” Franky said, already moving with Usopp to set up a harness. It took only moments for them to expertly set up the towing rig before they were on the move again, this time at a much faster pace.

Meanwhile, Zoro narrowed his eye at Yan. “You’ll really help us out?” He asked, voice low enough that only Yan heard it.

“This is beneficial for me as well,” Yan said, voice just as low.

Zoro huffed and crossed his arms, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, then.” Yan only nodded in response, conversation over as quickly as it had begun. He hadn’t expected to suddenly have the unwavering trust of the group just because he agreed to help out. 

By the time they arrived back at the square, Luffy had already made his move and saved Jinbei, so no one noticed the literal ship overhead. “Gaon Cannon!” Franky shouted, “Fire!” The lion figurehead's jaw creaked open and fired a propulsion of air into the crowd below. The force of it formed a literal crater in the ground as it blasted Hody’s goons away.

Their ship was...weird.

But it was just in time, because the blast provided the perfect cover for the whale to swoop in and grab King Neptune and the princes. It swam away just as nimbly. Good, Nami and Robin had been successful, and they didn’t have to worry about protecting the royal family, at least.

Except Shirahoshi was still there, and Franky landed the Thousand Sunny beside her. It was probably for the best that she stayed, actually. Vander Decken was unaccounted for at the scene (hiding like a coward in a kelp forest), and he could strike from any location. At least here, they could protect her from his projectiles.

The group disembarked the Thousand Sunny to the rhythm of the citizens’ voices. The populace cried out for answers, desperate to know if the Straw Hats (and himself, Yan realized belatedly), were the real foes responsible for everything.

“Are you going to destroy this island!?”

To Monkey D. Luffy...Destroy Fish-Man Island within 24 hours of your arrival.

“Why did you take over Ryugu Castle!?”

To Roronoa Zoro...Chain down any who would do the same to you and yours. 

“Were you the ones who kidnapped the mermaids!?”

To Caribou...Kidnap at least two mermaids. It does not matter who.

“Please answer us! Are you a friend of Fish-Man Island, or a foe!?”

To...

“Friend or foe?” Luffy called out. The crowd fell silent, and his gaze was unwavering, “You can decide that for yourselves!” The crowd exploded in an uproar, cheering and jeering as Yan and the others moved to stand behind Luffy. 

Across the plaza, Hody’s officers stood in direct opposition to them. Zeo the Fish-Man taunted, striped arms spread wide, “Don’t think you’ve won—” 

“Oh, you’re the mermaid princess! What a babe!” Brook laughed in that odd way of his, “May I take a peek at your—” his skull echoed with a dull, hollow thunk.

“Nami! I went and saved those idiots! Do you love me now?”

“—just because you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nami sighed as she shook out her sore hand.

“—rescued the King—”

“Liar! We were waiting for you at the entrance.” Zoro was slipping his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, letting it hang loosely around his hips. Yan felt like that was the opposite of what he should be doing right now.

“That’s because I saved you guys!” Pappagu, the weird sentient starfish, called from the deck of the Sunny.

“—for the moment!—”

“What’s with the whale?” Robin asked.

“We found him on the way and had him tow the ship,” Chopper said, transformed into an actual reindeer for once. How did he do that? Yan, discreetly, shuffled a step away.

“—You worthless—”

“I’ve got two new weapons waiting!” Franky called from beside Pappagu, “who wants to ride them?”

“What? New weapons!?” Usopp whipped his head around toward Franky, stars in his eyes as he cheered with childish glee.

“—human pirates!”

Yan didn’t say anything. He stood behind the Straw Hats as they chattered, completely ignoring the very people they came here to fight. Were all pirates this lax? At least Nami had the sense to hand off the Celestial Dragon’s document to Shirahoshi.

“Wimpy-Hoshi is gonna be in danger,” Luffy placed his fists on his waist and huffed, indignant.

“Her capture was unexpected. She’ll have to escape on her own,” Jinbei said.

“Thank you very much, everyone! This is the hope of Fish-Man Island that Mother left behind,” Shirahoshi cradled the piece of paper in her hands, her gaze wistful for a brief moment, “wait, Luffy, did you just”—She looked up at him—“you called me Wimpy-Hoshi?”

“Yeah, you’re braver than I thought,” Luffy said simply, as if it were obvious, “so you graduated from just being called ‘wimpy.’ But at least you’re not as wimpy as Yan!”

Yan looked over at the pirate, eyebrows to his hairline. The comment was, frankly, uncalled for, and therefore did not warrant a response of his own. Luffy raised a single eyebrow back at Yan, lips pulled down in a frown. So it wasn’t one of his jokes.

Even Jinbei seemed a bit startled at Luffy’s words, mirroring Yan’s own shocked reaction. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “That’s right, Princess Shirahoshi, you endured so much for so many years,” Jinbei added, reassuring her, “and Yan, right? Well, I’m sure—”

Yan saved him the effort, and held up a hand, “Don’t worry about it.” Jinbei nodded, grateful for the out. Luffy had gotten bored with Yan’s lack of response, and turned back to Princess Shirahoshi.

She, meanwhile, looked down solemnly, eyes misty with unshed tears, “I’m sorry. It’s because I kept that secret.” Yan had overheard about the promise Shirahoshi had made with her mother, all those years ago. How she promised not to hate the one who killed her own mother.

It was a noble promise, but Yan actually agreed with Hody about how stupid that was. None of this would be happening had she told someone, anyone. You didn’t have to hate the perpetrator to bring them to justice. You didn’t have to hate someone to kill them. Yan’s fingers curled smoothly. 

“It’s all right. You just stay the way you are!” Jinbei said to her, “To end the cycle of hatred is the wish of all great people! The bud of peace must one day blossom throughout the whole island. Someday, when all intelligent creatures share a common understanding, war and slavery between humans and Fish-Men will disappear,” despite her size, Shirahoshi was still a child. Yan wouldn’t interrupt Jinbei’s earnest attempt to cheer her up.

But the sight made his eyelids ache, and Yan suddenly found interest in plucking at a few stray threads on his cloak.

Jinbei continued, and Yan wished he had just chosen to walk away, “but I honor your long years of patient forbearance. You’ve nurtured that tiny bud all these years by yourself. Now let us protect it together!” How hopeful. How naive. 

Their history was just a sine wave that oscillated between positives and negatives. This moment was just approaching the axis. There might be a temporary kinship between the two races, or everyone could die here today. It didn't really matter, the result would just serve the Prescript’s will.

Yan knew that better than anyone.

There was an explosion of rubble from across the plaza, and Hody stepped out from the smoke. A temper tantrum after getting so easily punched by Luffy. “You played me for a fool, Jinbei! I should’ve realized it the moment you were captured so easily. You’re obviously friends with these humans!”—he pointed a pale, webbed finger at Jinbei—“I hate traitors like you more than anything in the world! You grew up in the Fish-Man district with Fisher Tiger and your oath brother Arlong! And they were both taken down by humans! And now you chose to side with humans instead of avenging your brethren? You’re a coward, just like Neptune!”

The Straw Hats ceased their conversations to listen to his monologue. It was the least they all could do. It was boring. Hody’s words were obvious, and delusional. But it was only respectful to listen to someone’s dying words.

“But when I become king, everything will change! The Reverie that will be held this year is the perfect opportunity! I’ll murder all the kings of the world at Mary Geoise and the legend of the undersea kingdom will be born!” He ranted, his face far too gleeful. He held up his arms as if he held the world in them, “I’ll drag all the humans underwater and make them our slaves! Soon no one will dare to defy the Fish-Men! It’ll be the same in the Pirate world!”

Hody didn’t even realize he was a tool for the Prescripts. How would he react if Yan told him his dream wasn’t even his own, that he was just a small piece of a larger puzzle. If he became king, it would be of nothing.

“I alone am fit to be the true Pirate King!” With those words, Yan saw it. Those words were the catalyst that somehow, moments from now, would lead to 50,000 men collapsing to the ground.

“Pirate King?” Luffy said quietly, almost unheard of in all the chaos. The hairs on the back of Yan’s neck stood up.

Hody cackled, and gestured to the army advancing on them, surrounding them from all sides, “Look at you! What can you do with your measly crew of eleven! We have 100,000 on our side!” with a sweep of his arm, he called out, “Get them! New Fish-Man Pirates!” Hody’s forces drew their blades and lunged forward. Yan materialized his sword under his cloak.

Luffy walked forward calmly, but Yan could sense the anger boiling inside him. And in an instant, Luffy unleashed it. With just his look alone, half of Hody’s forces fell to the ground. Luffy wasn’t even looking at Yan, yet he felt suddenly claustrophobic, trapped in an ever-shrinking room with no way out.

Conqueror's Haki , his mind told him. How could one man exert his own will like that over so many people?

“Your name’s Hody, right? I gotta beat you down. You can play at being a regular king all you want,” Luffy said, “but there's only room in this world for one King of the Pirates!”

Luffy’s arm ballooned in size, its size larger than Franky and Jinbei combined, and he jumped in the air. His fist rocketed forward, easily taking out dozens of their foes.

The rest of the Straw Hats got into position.

And the battle was on.

Chapter Text

Yan's first thought was Why am I even here?  

As soon as they had been given the go ahead, his temporary companions hadn't hesitated to jump into the fray. And honestly, the Straw Hats and Jinbei had it under control. So under control, in fact, that they didn't even appear to be taking the fight seriously at all. It was more like they were showing off to each other, impressing each other with whatever tricks and skills they had learned during their time apart. It was all so effortless that the citizens who had stayed behind to watch were moved by their showing, slowly being swayed to their side. 

Yan himself observed them in minor curiosity. The techniques they utilized were definitely a step up from their encounter with Surume. Still, it looked like they weren’t even trying, and it made it difficult to gauge where he stood in comparison. Yan had barely moved since the fighting began—and that was only to sidestep the attacks of the Straw Hats —and already a sizable chunk of Hody's forces were out of commission. He was beginning to wonder if he’d have to do anything at all.

To...Only touch humans with your left hand.

"This one's hiding behind all the others," an Eel Fish-Man crooned. In Yan’s observation of his temporary companions, a decent crowd had surrounded him. 

"She looks pretty weak. Maybe she's just scared,” a Clownfish said, though he wisely stood farther away, hiding amongst the crowd.

The Eel sauntered up to Yan, leaning in close, "I reckon we can take her on,” a long tongue flicked out between a set of fangs, ”maybe even take her. She's pretty. For a human. " There was lecherous laughter all around, like if hyenas had gotten ahold of a carton of cigarettes. The noise tapered off into something awkward, when it was clear Yan was going to remain an impassive statue.

"Oi! We're talking to you, bitch!" a different voice called out, all false bravado but unwilling to step forward himself.

"Oh, me?" Maybe they hadn't seen a lot of humans, and that's why they mixed up his gender. There was no point in correcting them. They would be dead soon anyways. "I wasn't listening," it was far more interesting to watch Zoro sweep people up into a tornado of blades, “can you repeat that?”

“I said, I bet we can take y—” and Yan shoved sharp claws into the man’s open mouth, all the way through until they pierced through the back of his skull. His eyes bulged out, and he said something unintelligible. The Eel Fish-Man was only standing by Yan’s support alone.

“Here’s a lesson,” he said to the group at large, “when someone asks you to repeat something, they’re really giving you the chance to correct what you said.” Yan pulled his hand out, tongue and all, and the man fell to the ground with a thick gurgle.

Another lesson Yan had learned was how to keep blood from splattering on him, how to swing his blade so that it arced away from him and onto his adversaries. It was important to keep clean, and presentation just as. His first few kills had been terribly messy. So much so that their blood had taken up residence behind his eyelids. 

Even now, he made sure to flick his wrist away so that no blood dripped onto his suit. “You can have this back,” Yan dropped the still wiggling tongue onto the Eel’s chest, not that he had the awareness anymore to thank him.

The reality of what Yan had done finally sunk in for the other nobodies, and they were kicked into gear. They lunged at him all at once, having the sense to realize they couldn’t take him on alone, but still inexperienced enough that they didn’t realize they’d only get in each other’s way.

He stuck his blade into the ground, pushing himself off of it and into the air. His opponents spears and swords only succeeded in stabbing into each other.

He landed on the guard of his blade, crouched with his feet on either side of the hilt, hands crossed high over his head. They transformed and enlarged until they were larger than his torso, like shadowy wings casting down over his prey.

“Compress.”

Like a bird taking flight, Yan swung his arms down on either side of him, easily crushing his opponents beneath his hands. There was the sound of bones cracking as ink splattered up from beneath them, as if he had squished some insignificant pests. Not dead yet, but they’d wish they were.

Yan hopped down from his perch, ignoring the groan of the Crab Fish-Man whose cracked carapace he landed on, and returned one of his hands to a normal size, reaching behind himself to grab the handle of his sword. The other remained enlarged, and he held it out in front of him, letting it go flying forward to latch on one of his larger foes who still remained far away. He squeezed, digging his claws into scales even as said foe yelled out in pain. The chain went taut, suspended in the air thanks to his powers, but instead of pulling his hand back, he pulled his body towards it, swinging his sword in a wide arc as he practically glided across the battlefield. His cloak fluttered behind him, and his blade left a trail of inky letters.

To...Don your thickest clothing and run four miles.

If Yan was being honest with himself, he wasn’t that great at fighting.

So he was surprised at how easily his sword sliced through the horde of Fish-Men. His sword, which still had its protective guards secured over its deadly edge.

It was the eleven of them up against 50,000 men. It shouldn't have been easy. Yan himself had only picked up the sword about a month ago, and any combat experience before that were messy acts of self defense. Now, he relied mostly on his claw attacks, only really using his blade to supplement any weaknesses. His fighting style was ugly, untrained. It was an amalgamation of his ghosts. It was Esther's swiftness. Hubert's strength. Gloria's cruelty.

But his attacks were heavy, and so he recovered slowly, like a doll who had to be wound back up again. He felt like the wind-up time was obvious to anyone paying attention, yet they still couldn’t even graze them. Their movements were just so easy to foresee, attacks too slow to matter. A woman tried to get the jump on Yan from behind, and all it took to bring her down was crossing his arm over his shoulder to fire off a ball of ink from the tip of his finger. By the time his hand returned to his side, she had fallen from the gaping hole in her shoulder.

Were they really just that weak?

Yan knew his skills had drastically increased when he became a Distortion, but he had also lost his very first fight as one. And his 'fight' with Sanji and Zoro barely counted. If the current battle was anything to go by, they hadn't really been trying against him.

But Yan wasn't a wimp, despite what Luffy said.

To...Make a meal consisting only of tomatoes, eggplants, and cheese.

He mused over his thoughts as he pierced his blade through someone’s stomach. He pulled it out in a shower of red and blue marbles. It still didn't feel great killing people. But Prescripts were meant to be fulfilled. Assigning useless feelings like ‘guilt’ or ‘regret’ to them had no place in this world. Even the hatred at what had made him this way had left him when he became a Distortion.

What remained inside him were dull impersonations of how he should feel, and so Yan was almost concerned when Surume appeared at Hody’s call. But really, he shouldn't have been. With a few words that Yan didn’t catch, Luffy had Surume quickly switching back to their side. And Luffy had the creature watching the princess. Yan could admit it was a smart move.

The battle was going too smoothly, which usually meant things were about to go wrong.

To...Play any card game with a group of people. Always play the (n) card in your hand where n = the number of participants.

“Kraken! Good job capturing Shirahoshi!” Hody called over the chaos, lounging in a chair he had actually gone through the effort to bring; like he really thought he was king. “Now smash her!”

Surume wavered, and Hody continued, “Remember your brother at the North Pole? I know exactly where he is. We can go there and kill him easily.” It was exactly the kind of ploy Yan would expect from this low-level Syndicate type.

That was all it took to convince the Kraken, and Surume coiled a tentacle around Shirahoshi, its previous protective embrace turning crushing. But there was hesitation in its actions, torn between obeying the two different people it believed stronger than it. Yan observed the dilemma from afar, even as he compressed a few more opponents. It wasn’t his place to interfere with the Will of the Prescripts.

To...If anyone plays the third card in their hand, tear off a fingernail.

Luffy had ceased his own fighting, giving his undivided attention to Surume. His voice was calm, almost cutting in how clear it was. “You’re only obeying him to protect your brother?” Yes, always obeying to protect its loved ones. “I know you don’t want him to get hurt. Is he younger or older than you?” Older, but the younger sibling wanted to help too.

Luffy adjusted the hat on his head, flicking it back to shoot a megawatt smile at Surume. “Why don’t you let me protect him too?” It was such a clear, honest, thing to say. It wasn’t a demand, but an earnest request. Why would Luffy make such an offer? 

Whatever the reason, Surume released the princess from its grasp, but didn't move away from her as she caught her breath. It was a bit baffling, to see a squirmy creature like an octopus be rendered into stunned stillness. It was answer enough for Luffy, and the pirate turned on his heel, marching over to Hody with the determination of a man on a mission.

Two of Hody’s officers wouldn’t just allow that to happen. Dosun and Ikaros Much flanked Luffy from either side. Even as they raised their weapons over the laughably smaller human, Luffy didn’t divert his path. He didn’t even spare them a glance from under the shadow of his straw hat.

He didn’t have to, because before the officers’ attacks even had a chance to connect, their blades were intercepted from both Zoro and Sanji, coming in from the sidelines. Not to protect their captain, Yan knew well enough Luffy didn’t need it, but to ensure no one interrupted his mission. And Luffy hadn’t bothered taking down those two because he trusted his crewmates to watch his back.

Hody finally stood from his throne, and in the blink of an eye Luffy was face to face with Hody, and he delivered a devastating kick to Hody’s jaw. Luffy’s leg stretched with the force, his hat falling off his head to reveal a determined grimace. Gone was the calm demeanor he had shown Surume, his face instead contorted into one of pure rage.

It knocked Hody flat on his back, and when he stood up he crushed a few nearby boulders to regain even a modicum of his pride back. Hody fell into a wide stance, and delivered a palm strike right to Luffy’s head. Instead of knocking his head clean off like Hody surely expected, Luffy’s neck only stretched far behind him, and then swung back like a bell to knock out the two fools who moved to protect Hody.

There was a split second where Luffy’s forehead had turned black. But then it was gone, like a trick of the light.

To...When your eyes meet a human’s, bite your thumb at them.

Yan wanted to observe the fight against Hody longer. Luffy’s body was fascinating, something Yan had never seen before. He had told himself it was prosthetics earlier, but between that and Robin’s own abilities, he was beginning to have second thoughts. How were they doing any of that? Augmentations? Were they utilizing a Singularity? Whatever the case, Yan didn’t have time to mull over that.

Because the sky had suddenly gone dark.

Yan barely even noticed the darkening sky, only putting two and two together when he realized it was because of Noah. The whale-like shape of Noah casted an ominous shadow over the square, the vessel nearly as large as the island’s landmass. Long, rusted, chains hung down from the propellers that protruded off its body, severed at the end. And atop stood Vander Decken IX, smiling like the cat who got the cream. He threw the giant from earlier down into the plaza, and everyone literally had seconds to scramble before getting crushed.

The square was suddenly thrown into disarray, even more so now that there was a threat that affected everyone . Because Noah wasn’t just sailing over Fish-Man Island, but bearing down on it. Its bow slowly tilted downwards, slowly puncturing the bubble. There was only one person who was unaffected, who knew what Noah’s presence meant, having lived with such a reality for over ten years. No one noticed the single, solitary girl as she rushed off to protect her kingdom.

Shirahoshi froze when Yan stood in her path. “S-Sir Yan, I-” she swallowed, and balled her fists by her side, “please don’t try to stop me! Noah is after me alone! This is something only I can do!” She was trembling in fear, already on the verge of tears again. But there was a resolute look in her eyes, ready to push past Yan if she had to. She fully expected him to stop her.

To Shirahoshi...

"'...‘ Lament. Do not stop until your call is answered. '"

"What?" She asked, fists going slack as all rebellion was shocked out of her system.

"Something only you can do," and with one hand, Yan unclasped his cloak and held it out to her. “It’s not much, and it’s dirty. But if you’re okay with that, it’ll keep you safe.” Damaged as his clothing was, it was still Nuovo Fabric.

It was her Prescript, but there was nothing saying Yan couldn’t at least give her that much. Shirahoshi may have been naive, but there was something charming about that. It reminded him when he was her age. Sixteen and full of dreams that he could escape the Index and do something with his life. 

To...Shoot the naked man in the corridor five times. Remember to put on your mother’s words.

That felt like so long ago. And now look at him. 

The delicate furrow of her brow told Yan that she still didn’t quite understand the Prescript he had delivered, but nevertheless Shirahoshi took the cloak with both hands, as if he had handed her something sacred, and not a torn up piece of cloth. “T-Thank you. I’ll take good care of it!” She delicately clasped it around her neck, all earnest gratefulness. It was terribly small on her, looking more like an ugly choker than anything. She didn’t comment on it, too polite to voice any doubt about it. “Thank you, Sir Yan!” And she was off, swimming high into the air.

“Protect her, alright?” Yan said quietly after his cloak. After all, it had been a real, living person at some point. Specifically, his cloak was fashioned out of a private bodyguard, who died to make sure their ward got away safely. They were the perfect person to turn into fabric. Hopefully they got some fulfillment out of protecting someone who actually deserved it.

His cloak listened to him, and when Decken threw a knife at her with cheated precision it unclasped from her neck, snaking down to her shoulder where Decken’s blade would have punctured her flesh. The blade bounced off pitifully, and Yan’s lips may have twitched in satisfaction. It would take more than just normal knives to cut through Nuovo Fabric.

Of course, that angered Decken, and he tried again, this time aiming for her midsection. The blade bounced off again, Decken’s ability voided. His projectiles may always hit their target, but it didn’t mean anything if Yan saw it coming. Working in tandem with his powers, his cloak moved along her body to shield her from any would-be attacks. His Index uniform was practically a part of him now, so he was able to at least do that much. It was a bit tiring, especially as she got farther and farther away, but nothing Yan couldn’t handle so long as she stayed within range of his Haki.

Hody, however, hadn’t taken kindly to Decken attempting to drop a giant ship on all of them, and leapt onto one of the large chains dangling from Noah. Sanji—somehow walking through the air, seriously, what kind of augmentations did he have—was already halfway to the ship himself before Luffy stopped him, saying he’d deal with it himself. With a stretch of his arms, he shot himself off Sanji’s outstretched leg like a slingshot.

Luffy and Sanji weren’t the only ones desperate to aid Shirahhoshi. A good number of the civilians who were still on the scene grabbed onto one of the hanging chains in a futile effort to slow Noah down just that much. Hody threw down a volley of arrows at them, piercing through them like bullets. One, two, thirty-three fell to the ground like pearls slipping off a snapped necklace. Yan looked the other way.

To...Link your arms with two strangers.

Enough standing around , Yan told himself, turning most of his attention back to the earth. The tide of battle had shifted down here, a sense of urgency permeating through the air. Everyone felt it, with Noah looming over them.

The officers themselves were finally beginning to take this a bit more seriously as well, and had started to target the root of their problems: The Straw Hats. Yan intended to let the others handle the officers. He was content picking off the stragglers and covering their backs while they took the spotlight. His brow twitched.

Nami was all alone, surrounded but holding her own. She created a swarm of clouds, trapping several enemy pirates inside them. Zeo camouflaged himself, body going nearly transparent, only a slight shimmer indicating his presence. He took the opportunity to slide between her wide stance, hands wrapping completely around her ankles.

“What's going on!? I can’t move my legs!” Nami yelled out, struggling to no avail against an unseen force. 

“Feel the wrath of my dried squid spears!” Ikaros Much yelled, already right in front of her, “You’ll be the party snack this time!”

“W-Wait a second! Why can’t I move my legs?!” Nami screamed, legs pinned in Zeo’s grip, "Someone help!” Ikaros raised two spears over her, the tips composed of dried squids. He brought them down and stabbed right into —

Yan was several meters away, and from this distance could only take out one. He wasn’t even technically in line of sight, swarms of people and debris between him and them, but he didn’t need to be. From his position he held out his arm to his side, in Ikaros’ direction, head bowed. His hand took on an eerie blue-black glow, and ink dripped onto the ground. 

“Feel the wrath of my dried squid spears!” Ikaros Much yelled, already right in front of her, “You’ll be the party snack this time!”

“W-Wait a second! Why can’t I move my legs?!” Nami screamed, legs pinned in Zeo’s grip, "Someone help!”

“Lock.” Yan clenched his fist, and golden, ink-stained, chains materialized out of thin air. They wrapped around Ikaros’ body, pinning his eight arms to his sides, and his spears dropped to the ground with a clatter. Yan had to give him credit for at least not falling over. 

“Huh? What happened?” Nami asked, blinking in bewilderment at the sight in front of her.

Meanwhile, Ikaros was struggling to get out of his bindings. He wriggled in place, arms flexing. The chains tightened the more he moved, until his hardened flesh bulged over the chains. “Who did that!?” He yelled out as he turned his head side to side, looking for the culprit.

It was only proper he introduce himself, and Yan took the confusion to run over. Brook was faster than Yan—he must have heard her scream as well—and the skeleton put himself between Nami and Ikaros, back to the enemy. “Might I take a quick look at those pantaloo—” Brook’s request was cut off with a scattering of black letters when Yan brought his sword down between them, right where Zeo’s neck was.

Yan missed. Even with having foreseen it. The slippery Fish-man slithered out the way he came, back out from between Nami’s legs. Luckily, stupidly, he didn’t take her with him.

“This form is too slow,” Yan mumbled to himself, back hunched like a cat from where his claymore dug into the ground. His distorted form had been fast enough to evade even the attacks from that librarian who wore the skin of the Purple Tear. What happened to his other form? Why did he look like a mockery of his past? There must be a reason, another answer in due time, but the wait was killing him.

“Yan! Don't scare me like that!” Nami stomped her heeled foot, a hand clutched against her pounding heart. At least he hadn't graduated to being hit by her, though her clenched fist said he was toeing the line. 

"Indeed! My heart nearly popped out of my chest! Not that I have a heart!" Brook chortled, "Yohoho! Skull joke!"

Zeo got to his feet and dispelled his camouflage. “What!? There was someone there!” Nami yelled in astonishment, “He’s the reason I couldn’t move!?”

Zeo laughed haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a diversion, you see, a ploy to gather the three of you together. Now”—Zeo threw a weighted chain towards them, the long chain arcing around them—“die!”

Who did Zeo even think his opponent was? Yan idly stepped away from Nami and Brook and extended his own chained arm out. He caught Zeo's chain in his metallic grip, and yanked. Zeo stumbled forward with an undignified cry. When he caught his footing, he leveled a wary look into Yan’s unmoving face.

Instead of rushing forward and finishing him off, Yan said, “I have a message for you two. Please relay it to your comrades—”

Ikaros finally put two-and-two together and interrupted him, “You! You're the one who did this!?” He yelled, still thrashing even as the chains cut into his skin.

Yan sighed and continued, “—'To Hody Jones and the officers of the New Fish-Man Pirates...Become old in your youth.'” He tilted his head, “That’s a peculiar Prescript, I’m curious to see how you’ll accomplish it.”

“What does that even mean?” Zeo asked. There was a heave in his chest that showed he knew exactly what that meant.

“Yeah, are you gonna tell us?” Nami asked, eyebrow raised and hand on her hip, “You said something like that to Usopp earlier, too.” She flexed her other hand around her staff, and it lit up momentarily with a dangerous spark.

Yan shrugged non-committedly, the motion much more obvious without his cloak, “That’s for you to figure out. I just deliver the words from above.” Yan said, then added, “You should consider yourselves lucky, though, it means I can’t kill you.” Dead men couldn’t fulfill Prescripts after all.

To...Follow the first human you see to their destination.

“You think you could bring us down! A mere human like you?” The chains around Ikaros wouldn’t hold much longer. They weren’t meant to bind someone forever, just long enough, and were already eroding away. One good punch would shatter them.

“You must not see a lot of humans, to think I'm still one. Besides," Yan said, “I won’t be the one to defeat you today.”

Ikaros shot him a confused look, and then a staticy voice rang out behind him. “Ain’t there anyone around here who can actually”—Franky, or rather, Franky in a giant metal robot, emerged from the smoke—“put up a fight!?” He delivered a punch to Ikaros’ jaw, and the chains shattered around him as the Squid flew to the ground.

Flailing on the ground with a hand nursing his bruised cheek, Ikaros threw a tantrum. Franky could handle him, and Yan turned his attention back to Zeo.

He was gone.

The chain in Yan’s grip had gone slack, and he threw it to the side. Yan knew Zeo could camouflage himself, but he was easier to see when he was still. The ground now just seemed shimmery, the dust from all the destruction casting a thick layer of film over the area. It was a bit like trying to see through a fog. It wasn't a problem for Yan, but he’d have to wait for Zeo to strike. 

He felt Brook bump against his back, and the skeleton said, “Shall we deal with that fellow together? I must say, I’m interested in battling alongside you!”

Yan wasn’t. “I’m just a humble Messenger, there’s no way I could compare to you.” Standing back to back (more like shoulders to hip-bone, given the height difference) with Brook made him uncomfortable. He’d rather go off with Nami—who had already left when Franky took the attention off her, how sly—and leave this to Brook.

“Nonsense! Your showing against Surume was splendid! And not just anyone can stand up to Zoro and Sanji!” Yan didn’t mention how they had been going easy on him. “So come, let us fight together!”

Yan exhaled through his nose. “Sure.” And the two of them kept their eyes (“Not that they had any between them!”) to the ground, even as they picked off anyone who got too close. 

Zeo was swimming along the ground, weaving in and out of the fray. He was trying to get a good position to strike, but just as Brook couldn't see him, neither could his own men, and he nearly kept getting trampled underfoot whenever he snaked close. 

Even with the camouflage, Yan could see him, but he was too fast to risk stabbing and leaving himself open. All he needed was to see a few seconds into the future, but the constant brush of Brook’s bones against him kept making him lose focus, interrupting his future sight. Any time Yan took a step away, Brook was at his back. The skeleton couldn’t seem to stay still and dead.

With Zeo biding his time to strike, Yan took the brief respite to look back in the direction he came. Even before he had heard Nami’s call, he had been moving in an arc away from the Sunny and then back to it, near to where everyone else was. There was a distinguishable smear of ink in the path he had carved, almost like some abstract painting. It was incommodious, how messy his new fighting style was, how much of himself he left behind. 

The numbers were thinning considerably, but there were still thousands of enemies to fight through, though the only ones with any skill were Hody’s officers and the pockets of lackeys that followed them. A good portion had realized they were on the losing side, and were attempting to make their way to the edge of the plaza to desert. It was unfortunate for them, because the royal reinforcements were due to arrive soon. Hody’s forces, beaten down as they were, wouldn’t stand a chance.

To...Seek cover only under buildings with blue roofs.

“Hey Chopper,” Zoro said from nearby, also taking the moment to relax, “the only humanoid form of yours is lookin’ pretty monstrous these days.” 

And Yan looked at Chopper as well. Gone was the normal reindeer he had arrived as, and what stood in front of them was some humanoid-gorilla thing. The fur around his neck had puffed up considerably, as did the entirety of his muscle mass. Though, his legs were a bit scrawny. It was a bit disconcerting that Chopper could change his form so easily—and Yan swore he got a glimpse of a beetle form earlier—and he was once again wondering if it was a reindeer thing, or a Chopper thing.

Chopper giggled, his voice still unbelievably childish despite his size. “I don’t mind any more! The only reason I wanted to be human was to make friends!” His smile was a bright, cheerful thing, “I’m fine being a monster for Luffy’s sake!” So all this was a Chopper thing. That made Yan feel slightly better about it all. He wasn’t sure if he could cope with the knowledge that reindeer were actually shapeshifting creatures.

Speaking of. “ Camouflage Carpet! ” Zeo announced like an idiot from somewhere right in front of Yan, assuming he had been distracted with Chopper. And it was the opening Yan needed. He enlarged his hand and Compressed right where the voice came from.

Yan retracted his hand, and was mildly surprised that Zeo was still able to stand up. Granted, he was coughing and clutching his side, but still standing. “T-Take that, human! How do my bone-shattering ultrasonic waves feel! Soon...y-your fingers will crumble from—”

“Your ribs are broken.” Brook helpfully informed, having turned completely around to observe the display in front of Yan.

“That’s what you think! Behold!” Zeo yelled, running right towards them, even if there was an obvious limp to his movements. He disappeared, camouflaged again. Yan held up his sword in preparation to block. “ Hidden Flail! Sixty-six Headlock! ”

And from behind Yan and Brook, Zeo threw his weighted chain at them, at Brook, who was directly behind Yan and dwarfed him in size. It coiled around Brook’s exposed vertebrae, and the chain went taut. Yan moved around the skeleton and raised his claymore to cut the chain just as Zeo started to pull.

His blade only met loose dirt, again, and Brook’s head sailed by Yan’s; the whole thing ripped clean off. Empty eye sockets and a perpetual grin met Yan’s horror stricken face. 

Brook’s skull landed amongst the bloodied corpses at Yan’s feet, joining them in painful remembrance. His hands, mechanical and unfeeling, suddenly felt slick with blood, and it was only That Messenger’s hands around his own that kept the knife from slipping from his grasp.

“I have defeated one of the Straw Hat Pirates!” Zeo celebrated, arms held high, flail spinning. Yan barely heard it, a piercing buzz building higher and higher in his ears. “And now I will defeat another!” 

That Messenger leaned over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, gently reminding him to—

“Not on my watch,” Brook’s voice rang from his skull. He should be dead, choking on the blood that flooded his mouth, on the roots that took hold in his heart, not talking as if he were hale and alive. 

A fog emanated from Brook’s kneeling body, extending out towards his skull. The blood that coated his cranium was brushed away in that smoke, and a finger dislodged from his afro when his skull floated up into the air. It attached back to his neck with a sickening crack, and Yan sucked in a breath at the same time Zeo screamed.

Brook got to his feet, as if nothing ever happened, as if it was all some sick joke at Yan’s expense. He rationalized the situation to himself. Of course Brook would be fine. He was a Distortion, not a corpse. He merely looked like a skeleton just as Yan merely looked like a human. They were the same, with hollow skulls and empty bodies. So why were these memories coming back to him? He had discarded all his emotions, so why was he freaking out? Why now? 

Brook, oblivious to Yan’s thoughts, held his cane up in both hands, pulling it apart near the curved handle to reveal a glimmering blade. “So long as my bones do not take a single scratch, you cannot say that your attacks cut me to the bone! And now see my hidden cane blade, forged for me by the Longarm Clan. Its name is”—he brandished it towards Zeo like a Cinq Fixer would: all chivalrous poise and grandeur—“Soul Solid!”

“Any slash adorned with my soul brings the chill of the dead with it!” That same fog coated his blade, and it noticeably brought the temperature down around them. It seeped inside Yan’s vivisected chest, the cold achingly familiar. “Observe the Freezing Blade!”

Arms were clawing up Yan's legs, one for each of his friends. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, brow pinching upwards, and his feet felt frozen to the ground. He tried to collect himself, even as chipped nails dug into his pants. He just needed a second. 

But the Prescripts always had other plans for him, and who was he to deny them, when even during his darkest hours they had never left him? 

Behind Yan, a pirate noticed his stillness and swung a curved blade at his neck. Yan whirled around in the opposite direction, his own hand following to return the favor. He struck with far more force than necessary, and all that was left behind was the chewed stump of the pirate's legs.

With the sound of shattering glass, the lock on his sword glowed and crumbled to pieces. So too did the guards on his blade, falling off and dissipating into shimmery, blue petals. The dull blue of his heartstrings brightened, the pulse of the City evident in its electric glow.

To...Dunk your head underwater. Do not resurface until you see yourself.

Yan's blade unlocking reminded him of his present purpose, and the power thrumming through his artificial veins gave him all the clarity he needed. He moved, translucent petals trailing behind his inky steps. He was faster than before, and left behind Brook, and Zeo, and That Messenger who watched his every move. 

Yan emptied his mind as he fell into the familiar cycle of violence, even easier now that his blade was unlocked. The Proxies had always dragged out fights to get to this point, and he could see why. The technology their weaponry utilized augmented their bodies, and it allowed them to perform feats that wouldn't be possible in a normal body, such as Esther's Castigation and Hubert's Decapitation. It still took years of training to perfect their signature moves, and Yan was nowhere near their level, but it made up for any shortcomings in his techniques, and that was all he needed right now.

But it seemed like for every enemy he cut down, two more rose in their place. It felt endless, like he was lost in a dark forest and all he could do was try to cut his way through. But with every tree felled, more grew back, taller and wider than before, with long branches that blocked out the sun and trapped him in eternal night. Or maybe it was just Noah falling towards them again.

“This is a message to the entire kingdom, from the air tank above Fish-Man Island! An emergency evacuation had been declared! Noah the Ark is falling toward the island once more!” an unfamiliar voice, to his relief, said over the intercom system, “Make your way off the island at once!” More orders were issued over the loudspeaker. Orders not meant for Yan. 

There was immediate anarchy on the battlefield, civilians and pirates alike scrambling to evacuate or find cover. Yan noted that while several of the Straw Hats seemed concerned, none of them tried to abandon ship.

Yan cut a path back towards the Sunny, clearing the way for later. He passed a few of the others, but they only spared each other a glance before going back to their own fights. The intercom was still on, someone having forgotten to turn it off, and Luffy, Princess Shirahoshi, and Prince Fukaboshi’s voices were being transmitted through the system, only cutting out occasionally from the shaky connection.

To...Give a speech where everyone can hear you, but no one can see you.

“I finally know Hody Jones’ true nature !” Prince Fukaboshi said over the broadcast, the system finally stabilizing, “Hody is a monster born from his environment!”

These words were meant for all of them, which meant they were meant for Yan. And so he responded, “Of course he is. And so are you. We were born that way. We’re all reflections of our environment, and our actions feed back into the wheel,” Yan said to himself, “It’s never ending, it’s agonizing.” 

Fukaboshi continued, “The New Fish-Man Pirates are monsters created by hatred. They live in fear of their ancestors’ hatred being forgotten; live in fear of the day that the anger at the humans is forgotten! They live in the hope that their holy war is just, that the humans are all evil! They desire blood! They do not even want peace for Fish-Man Island!”

“Just or not, this is what everyone wished for, and thus their god was born. And by relying on their god, they don’t have to take responsibility for their actions, and can walk the path laid out for them. That is their holy war,” Yan countered. He was used to talking with no response.

“This hatred they wield is entirely void of any kind of experience and will! Hody is entirely empty! There is no substance within him!” 

“That void won’t ever be filled. Trying only reminds you of how empty you are. But isn't that better?” Yan demonstrated by cleaving a pirate in half, “you don’t have to worry about those useless feelings eating away at your own heart.” 

“We were too late. After we lost the hearts of the Fish-Man District they became the darkest emotions of Fish-Man Island, cut off from the rest of the populace. Deep in the lawless district down on the seafloor, a terrible hatred built up and we pretended not to see it!”

Fukaboshi thought he was so smart, that he was different from Hody. Neither of them understood the truth. “And by turning a blind eye you only let the wound fester and grow. In ignoring the problem you became just like them. Recognizing it now doesn’t make you any better.”

“We focused only on outward appearances and pretended we were making progress!” Fukaboshi yelled. What did he hope to accomplish with this speech at the last possible second? Just because he realized these things now didn't mean anything would change.

“The sooner you discard your false personas, the better. Only when you're empty can you look inwards at what remains, and see yourself for what you really are,” it was a shame Fukaboshi couldn’t hear Yan’s responses.

And so Fukaboshi continued, undeterred, unknowing, “We were too late for them! They are what Mother feared most of all! We should have started by fighting inward! Our mother was murdered by the hatred of Fish-Man Island!“ I suspect that she knew this might happen! But somewhere in my heart, I held that hatred of humans!” 

“See? There it is. The reason the suffering never ends lies within all of you. You cannot escape the Prescripts. By accepting yourself, you’ll no longer be worn down by that pain. Your lives can become much more fulfilling that way,” Yan was trying to help, before they became like him. If they accepted themselves now, they wouldn't have to go through what he went through.

“The sorrow of the dead belongs to the dead! Hatred is an illusion that the living create and amplify on their own! We happened to overlook the hatred for humans that was building in the Fish-Man District and by the time we noticed it, that hatred was a power beyond our control! At this rate, Fish-Man Island will destroy itself with its hatred of humankind!”

“This is merely a consequence of overlooking that illusion of hatred. And by overlooking one, you gave yourself another. You have given yourself a false semblance of safety, and created a house of mirrors in which you refuse to look at any of them. You have always been in control of it, you just can't admit that this was the result. If such is the will of the island, then let it be so,” Yan concluded.

“Please Straw Hat! We do not need our past! Reduce it to nothing!” Fukaboshi pleaded, tears streaming down his face, “Vanquish these ghosts that distance us from the sun! With your hand, reduce Fish-Man Island to nothing!” 

He was unknowingly pushing Luffy towards his Prescript, “It's too late. The living answers for what the dead have left behind. Luffy will destroy it, but not in the way you think you want. He will leave, but pain will always catch up to those who stay.” Just as even though Noah had been engulfed in the bubble shot from the air tank, it was still falling towards them.

“Brother-Hoshi. If I’m free to do what I need to, then don’t worry!” Luffy’s voice rang out over the loudspeakers, “From the moment we landed in the square, we and Jinbei decided that we wouldn’t let anyone on Fish-Man Island be hurt! Anyone! Leave it to us Brother-Hoshi!” 

Yan didn't promise that, and he slowed to a stop, his sword hanging limply by his side. What was he doing, if it was all just going to be destroyed? Why was he trying so hard, when none of it even mattered? Luffy, Fukaboshi, Hody. All of them were fighting desperately. And for what?

"We're friends, aren't we," Luffy said.

Yan tilted his head upwards, face shadowed by the approaching shape of Noah. And from his place down below, Yan witnessed the moment Luffy stretched his arm back, the appendage black and steaming like a live coal. It shot forward, digging deep into Hody’s stomach, so hot that steam rose from Hody’s back. The Fish-Man was flung back onto Noah's deck. The blow would have felled any normal person, but he was too drugged up to feel the pain anymore.

Luffy leapt off Shirahoshi’s back and onto the deck. Whatever weakness the ocean caused him was gone once he entered the bubble surrounding Noah, and his arm ballooned again to disproportionate size. Before Hody could retaliate, Luffy punched him into the ship one final time, splintering the side into pieces. And there Hody laid: motionless and defeated. 

Luffy had won.

But instead of stopping, Luffy reared his arm back and delivered another devastating punch to Noah's side. His open wounds spurted blood, dripping down his arm in thick rivulets, but he wasn't done. He wound up again , and before Yan realized what he was doing, his cloak had flown off Shirahoshi and wrapped itself around Luffy’s shoulder, stemming the flow of blood.

Luffy punched Noah over and over. The sound rang out, like a golden bell being struck. A nostalgic echo. Luffy coiled his arm once more. Yan heard one final ring as his fist collided with ancient wood.

To Poseidon...Awaken to—

And then it was silent.

No Prescripts. No Will of the City.

The world cut out, the radio in his mind abruptly unplugged from the wall. He could not even hear the battle around him. The screams, the cannon fire, the voices over the intercom. All of it was gone, and all that remained was Yan in a pitch-black room. The darkness was impervious and all consuming.The boulder he knew was next to him was gone. He couldn't even move, unsure where it was still safe to plant his feet. He could no longer sense anything, and he felt all alone.

Except. High, high, high above him was Monkey D. Luffy, body silhouetted by the sun. Yan felt a horrible sense of deja vu, like he was trapped in his book all over again. Perhaps this was all a dream? A bizarre hallucination meant to torment him one last time. He wondered how his mind had even conjured such an insane series of events. 

The wind blew, and Yan was on that cliff again, his back to the edge and crashing waves licking against his heels. He couldn't even move when That Messenger approached him. After all, where else would he go? They were almost a mirror image of him, except with a pristine uniform and a face obscured by a loudspeaker, branches and flowers growing from beneath the exposed parts, hiding their identity.

They looked into his face, and they shook their head. Chidingly. Disappointedly. They reached out from beneath their cloak, unmoving despite the wind, and placed their gloved hands against his chest. The wind picked up violently in front of Yan, making his hair billow around him, and they pushed. He stumbled off that cliff; falling back, back into his grave. But his back didn’t meet the blunt end of Binah’s pillars, nor the craggy nails below. Something wrapped around his bicep and he was wrenched sideways.

It was the uncanny feeling of vertigo that had his head snapping towards the source. There stood Zoro, eyes shadowed by his bandana. He was moving his mouth, saying something, but Yan couldn't hear anything, couldn’t read his lips even if he opened his eyes. All Yan could tell was that Zoro was angry for some reason. Had Yan done something wrong? Where did he go wrong this time?

Zoro shook him by the arm, rather forcefully, and it was like he was rattling a loose piece of Yan back into place, because he was able to catch the rest of what Zoro was saying. "—re you spacing out for!? Are you trying to get yourself killed!" Yan had no idea what he meant by that, and it must have been obvious, because Zoro elaborated, “Franky shot a laser right at that squid guy. Why did you just stand there!?”

“Can’t you hear that?” Yan whispered, his tone one of consternation. In the silence there was a constant Doom-Dut-Da-Da. Like a heartbeat. It wasn't his own. “It’s like a drum.” 

Zoro retraced his gaze upwards, “I don’t hear anything like that. All I see is Luffy,” the grip on his arm eased, "Look, I don't know what's going on in your head right now," he said, voice more even, "but you can't just stand there.”

You can't just stand there.

There was only one path for Yan, and it was gone, had disappeared the second the Prescripts did. The road had ended and Yan didn't know what lay beyond, blocked off by thorny branches that would surely cut into him if he took even the tiniest step forward. How was he supposed to find his way back, if there was no path to follow and no voice to guide the way?

Doom-Dut-Da-Da

Yan didn’t answer, and turned his head back skyward, searching for some sort of answer. He was distantly aware of Zoro leading him by the elbow, though wherever they were going was of little consequence to Yan. The rest of the Straw Hats had finished fighting, all of Hody’s officers out of commission, no doubt, and were idling around the Sunny by the time Zoro dragged him back. 

Zoro dropped his arm as soon as they were close, and Sanji was the first to greet him, hiking up to Zoro with purpose,“Oi! Marimo! What’s the big idea, runni-what happened to your chest?” Did the scar on Zoro’s chest open back up? That wasn’t good. Hopefully Chopper’s claim of being their doctor held some ground.

“Yan! What happened to your chest!?” Oh. Sanji was talking about him.

He was so busy looking up that he didn't even notice the changes happening to himself. Yan choppily brought a hand to his chest, fingers splayed over dull threads. The blue light had been snuffed out, leaving behind charcoal gray threads; lifeless, now that the Prescripts were gone. It'd be simpler if he could disappear with it. But it had left him behind yet again.

"What!?" Chopper yelped, "Someone help me move so I can check on him!" At some point, he had transformed back into that small racoon form of his, though his entire body was noticeably limp. A drawback for all his transformations?

Arms grew from the ground, acting as a sort of high chair for Chopper. Bloody, bloody arms that had him bringing his hand up to his eyes, digging the heel of his palm into them until hazy fireworks blocked out all the red. 

"Chopper, maybe you shouldn't—" Sanji started. Yan didn’t realize what he meant, and it took all his focus to notice the hooves touching his heartstrings. "Don't you feel that?” he asked, placing a hand on Yan’s shoulder. “Come on, you have to answer us.”

"I don't feel much of anything right now,” Yan finally mumbled. His voice sounded so far away in his ears, quiet where everyone else’s wasn’t.

"Why's the light out, what's that mean?” Chopper asked, a perplexed furrow in his face when his initial diagnosis proved fruitless.

"What's going on with you?" Usopp added, his voice a dry branch in the wind. 

Maybe if Yan didn’t answer, they’d leave him alone.

“It’s possible he doesn’t know himself,” Robin had moved closer to him, and she wrapped a hand gently around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from his eyes. Yan felt suffocated, with so many hands on him. Sanji’s firm grip on his shoulder, the hand around his calf, Robin trying to hold his own, the one clutching his ankle, Chopper’s hooves idle in his chest, another above his knee and the last climbing up his ribs. They were all so dull, he could barely tell which ones were real.

Stop touching me. Let me go. He wanted to scream, but instead let the words strangle him. He had no right to beg for amnesty. It was his burden to bear, his pain to forever hold in his heart. The sorrow of the dead may belong to the dead, but his ghosts would live on within him.

Instead, he said, “Luffy. He destroyed it.” 

“ Noah? ” Chopper asked, finally removing his hooves.

“The Will of the Ci-Island.”

“Can you finally explain what that means?” Nami’s voice filtered in. She sounded irritated. He didn't care.

“What do you want me to say? It’s gone. Their hopes and dreams. Their fear and hatred. All their desperate wishes and clamoring prayers,” Yan didn’t sound like himself, it was like someone else was answering for him, “he destroyed it all. And now there’s nothing.” 

“Guess he took ‘reduce it to nothing’ literally,” Franky said.

“Wouldn’t that be figuratively?” Brook chimed in.

“I thought it was metaphorically?” Usopp added.

Nami smacked the closest person's arm, who happened to be Usopp, and he yelped and rubbed at the sting. The sound was muffled to Yan. “How about ‘seriously?’ As in, can you guys take this seriously!”

But Yan latched onto what Franky said. “A Prescript to destroy the Prescripts? Why would they wish for that? For their own way of life to be destroyed?”

“Didn’t you tell me that everyone’s will could be changed? Maybe they didn’t want that anymore,” Robin tried. There was some murmuring behind her at that comment.

“And I said it wasn’t that simple. People...don’t change so easily. If they did, then...then they...I would...” he trailed off. The phosphenes swirled behind his eyelids.  

Prince Fukaboshi’s plea. A desire to start over, to go back to the beginning. Was such a thing even possible? It made him think of the City. How cruel they were, how he had tried to no avail, how his own struggle only made it more apparent. Was his own home beyond changing? 

Was he beyond changing?

The river was too wide for any individual, too powerful to swim against the current. No one could defy it. That type of bullheadedness only led you running head first into a wall. But Luffy, high above him, contradicted every preconceived notion Yan had. Luffy had not just defied it, but broke it into pieces that floated inside a bubble, beyond recognition.

Doom-Dut-Da-Da

Why had Luffy been able to succeed where Yan had failed? 

“Was my best...just not enough?”

“It might be a bit late to ask this, but...are you okay?” Nami asked, surprisingly hesitant.

He wasn’t. The proof of his existence had shattered before his eyes and she asked if he was okay? “I cannot see a thing,” it wasn’t an answer to her question, “with the Prescripts’ aid I could see into the future, what would happen next. Now I can't see anything.” 

There were mutterings of confusion, and then Jinbei spoke over them, "I had my suspicions, that you were utilizing your Haki to see into the future, but this is to a degree I've never seen before.”

"While I won’t deny that Yan’s Observation Haki is exceptional, I don’t think that’s quite what’s going on here," Robin cut in, "from my understanding of it, Prescripts, and therefore the Will of the Island, are more synonymous with the Voice of All Things.”

Hadn't she been the one to tell him to keep it a secret? Then again, she never said she would. How conniving. In his own indifference he had been complacent. Robin outplayed him.

"Remember, my little pearl, that every slip of paper has two sides."

Like a stab to the back, memories bled into the present. The voice of the City had done much to quell them, but with them gone it was like someone had pulled the knife out and let it flow freely down his spine, and he was helpless to close the wound. He forced his mind back to the conversation. He’d take it over his anamnesis.

"The Voice of All Things!?" Sanji seemed far more shocked than Yan felt was warranted.

"Can it be used in such a way?" Franky asked from nearby, having moved closer to stand behind Robin.

Jinbei was skeptical, and he crossed his arms, "The only ones who truly understand its power are those who have it, but Nico Robin, isn't this a bit extreme?" 

Robin didn’t back down, "I witnessed it myself earlier, and he even used it to predict the citizens stomping on the queen's portrait. An event that happened a full hour later, might I add." Yan felt like she was misinterpreting his abilities in some way, but he was too tired to correct her.

"An hour!?" 

"I...I've only ever heard of people using Observation Haki to see a few seconds into the future. An hour is unprecedented." Jinbei tore his gaze away from Robin to give him a look of fearful awe.

"The Prescripts. The Voice of All Things. Different words for the same thing. I suppose the latter is more clear. It truly is the voice of all things. Not that it matters anymore,” Yan sighed, his hand falling away from his face to hang limply at his side, yet Robin still didn't remove her own, “it is gone. And how am I supposed to move on without it? It is my will, and when Luffy destroyed it he destroyed mine.”

"Your will?" Brook quipped.

"I don't get it. What does Lufffy have to do with it? All he's doing is destroying Noah, " Sanji said.

Yan also didn't understand. All he knew was that Luffy had destroyed the Will of the Island, but he didn't know how. Luffy wasn't immune to the Prescripts, but somehow he had the power to go against them, to destroy them. He felt like he should know, but nothing came to mind. Every idea just seemed so impossible.

They were all focusing on different aspects of what Yan said, and Usopp chose to say, “And what does all that have to do with you trying your best?” 

"Tell me, doesn't this all seem like nonsense? The deranged ramblings of a man who's gone off the edge," Yan said.

"Uh...I didn't wanna say anything, but yeah, it kinda does," Usopp sheepishly said, scratching at his long nose.

"I thought the same, once. I thought the Prescripts were a hoax and wanted others to realize that. So I tried to form a crack in the system, to show people that the Prescripts could be opposed, that they didn’t have to listen to the orders on random pieces of cloth,” oddly enough, that got a few approving nods from them, “how could I know, then, that my every move was foreseen, that my own rebellion was written into the Will of the City. I learned the truth of your Voice of All Things and paid the price for it.”

“What price?” Sanji asked, once again looking down at his chest.

“It’s best not to know,” He said, much to the dissatisfaction of the others, if their grumblings were anything to go by, “I’m not too disheartened by the result anyways. I failed, but that’s alright.”

Zoro stepped forward, and there was steel in his eye. “If you say it’s alright then you didn’t try your best, of course that wouldn’t be enough. If you were satisfied with just a crack then you shouldn’t have tried at all,” he said, speaking up for the first time.

“Zoro!” Nami gasped.

“Look. I've understood maybe about half of what you've been saying, but what I do know is that you tried to rebel against something or whatever. And now you're having a pity party 'cause it didn't work out," Zoro continued, ignoring her, "you don’t get to complain about trying your best when you didn’t go all in."

Yan’s head lolled to the side, away from the sky and straight into Zoro. Yan wondered what ‘all in’ would even look like for him. He had killed so many people with his forged Prescripts. Even he had not been spared. Was that still not enough? What more could he have done?

Had he been shortsighted in his approach? It was almost laughable to think about. All his planning, all his efforts, all his years of enduring, his month of manipulating anyone and everyone, of pulling unseen strings all while pretending to be unbothered, was nothing compared to the few short hours Luffy spent on this island. 

Maybe that was the problem, the fact that he had tried to work within the system. 

It just made it more clear that it could have never been him.

"Call it what you will. I realized my limits that day, and knew when to give up,” Yan just felt so tired. Tired of explaining, tired of understanding something only to be presented a new set of rules moments later.

"And that's the difference between you and Luffy,” Zoro said with a tone of finality. The others nodded in agreement. Yan had nothing more to say, and turned his gaze back towards Noah. Maybe if he kept looking up, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge his failures.

During the course of their conversation, Luffy still hadn't stopped his assault, and he reared his arm back for another punch, all stubborn determination. A crack followed, loud enough for the rest of the Straw Hats to hear and follow Yan's gaze. Noah was in shambles at this point. How much more could Luffy destroy the Will of the City? It was already gone, at this rate it’d never come back at all. 

“Stop!”

Yan gasped, ignoring the confused voices of the pirates around him. That had been Princess Shirahoshi’s voice, directly in his head. It was invasive in a way the Prescripts weren't.

Luffy had heard Shirahoshi’s voice as well, and he finally ceased his destruction. But now that he had stopped, he couldn’t move anymore, his wounds finally catching up to him. Yan used the remnants of his power to wrap his cloak tightly around Luffy’s bite wound. At least he could still do that. 

“My my, what a human he is.”

“What a mighty little man.”

Other voices belonging to the giant fish, the Neptunians, joined in. Yan’s dad had once told him of monsters that lurked deep beneath the waves, but he never imagined anything like this. They were larger than even Noah, and were an amalgam of several different animals. There was even a giant frog. They swarmed above the island, one for each of Noah’s chains being held in their jaws, stopping its descent. He had been able to hear them, earlier, but they had never spoken directly to him like this.

Luffy’s grip on Noah’s banister loosened, and then he was falling. Yet the other voices just kept talking, as if Luffy was too small for them, despite their praise. 

“If we had been a moment later, the island would be safe, but Noah would have been dashed to pieces!”

And if they waited another moment, Luffy was going to become a stain on the ground.

“I am glad we came in time. It was a very good thing that Princess Shirahoshi called for us.”

"Yan!" Chopper called. He only had ears for the Neptunians, hoping that one of them had the answers for him. 

“What? But...I couldn’t do anything. Only cry... ” Shirahoshi said, in a voice only they could hear, "Is...that what he..."

The pirates were still yelling at him. They didn't understand what was happening. He needed them to shut up.

“No...you were guided by the straw hat boy’s powerful desire...and prayed.”

“Just as he tried to save the island, you wished to be a source of strength to him.”

Yan unwound his cloak, letting it cradle Luffy just before he hit the railing at Noah’s stern. Luffy’s body landed with a loud crash, the worst of the damage mitigated at the last second.

“Our power is your power. We lent him our aid...because you called us.”

Commotion was happening around them. People were cheering. There was something about Hody and Decken and the royal family. Yan didn’t care. 

"Look!" Chopper tried again, pitch rising, "your chest! The strings!"

That got Yan's attention, and he took notice of his threads. It was still dim, but barely, just barely, there were a few strings that lit up. Barely lighter than all the others, but glowing nonetheless.

"What...does this..." He muttered. None of this made sense any more. Yet another rule that had been broken. Just yesterday everything had finally made perfect sense to him, and now it was all being turned on its head.

“Princess Shirahoshi, we have been waiting and waiting for you to be born.”

“For me?” she asked, tears still in her eyes.

“The ship was built for us to pull.” 

“It has been spoken of for years and years among us. Every few hundred years, our sovereign is born in the form of a mermaid, for some reason.”

“Why is that?”

“From the moment of your birth you have been our queen.”

They spoke only to her, and Yan tried not to feel dejected about it. Patience, he told himself. Presumptuousness would get him nowhere. Yet his hands curled into fists.

“Look, the bubble is being absorbed by the island.” 

“You must go to him.”

Shirahoshi had finally noticed Luffy’s supine form, his unconscious body inches from falling off of Noah. The Neptunians started to pull the ark away from the island, and Shirahoshi scooped Luffy up just before Noah and Luffy were pulled from the bubble’s protective embrace.

“Humans will die on the seafloor.”

The Neptunians were turning away, taking Noah with them, having barely acknowledged Yan's tiny presence. They had shown him their backs, yet he chased after them, straining his senses to hear the last dredges of their conversation before they went somewhere he could not follow. They knew. They knew of the Prescripts. The Will of the City. Surely they had an answer for him.

“Was it my imagination?”

“Hm? What?”

“That human with the hat...seemed to notice our voices.”

“And another...the one in black...who protected our sovereign.”

“That can't be!”

“But it did happen once before.”

“Yes, it did.”

“But can this one answer, like before?”

Yan could not.

He had the power to listen, but not to answer. He could hear the world turn but the world would never acknowledge him for it. That was the price for his power. And as the Neptunians faded away, the brief power that had been returned to him disappeared once again, as simple as blowing out a candle. And Yan remained, half-melted wax sticking him to the ground.

It had been one thing to hear the Will of the City, but not receive a Prescript. It was another thing completely to have it completely ripped away from him. What was he supposed to do now?

“Someone help!” Shirahoshi wailed, swimming faster than she had when outswimming Noah, even as tears and snot trailed down her face, “Luffy won’t stop bleeding! He went too far trying to help us!” She was overreacting. Yan’s cloak had helped to stem most of the bleeding, but she was right in that Luffy still needed medical attention.

Any attention that was still on Yan was instead diverted to the Straw Hats’ injured captain. Shirahoshi gently deposited Luffy onto the ground while Robin moved a mostly limp Chopper into position. It was hard to take him seriously, when Robin had to hold him up. At least Usopp voiced his concerns. 

Yan stepped closer, and held out his hand. His cloak jumped into his grasp. “Uh,” Franky started, “I’m pretty sure it’s ruined by now.” Yan held it up to eye level. Red was splotched over it in odd patterns from where it had been wrapped around Luffy. Franky continued, “You’d be better off washing it, or just getting a new one.” That wasn’t an option. His uniform was one of a kind in several ways. He couldn’t replace it even if he tried.

Without another word, he walked a few steps away, out of range of the others. He tightened his grip, and whipped the fabric in an arc. The blood that coated its surface shot off, streaking a long red line on the boulder in front of Yan. Back to its original state, he clasped it into place. He looked back over his shoulder, “Anti-absorbent fabric,” he explained simply. It’d be ridiculous if they had to get new uniforms after every battle.

“Ah. Right. What about the rest of it?” Franky gestured to the ink that remained.

“I did that myself,” which was true, they just didn’t know how.

"Sure..." a nervous bead of sweat dotted Usopp's brow.

“Does anyone here have blood type F?” Chopper called, bringing Yan’s attention back to the source of his stained cloak. F? What kind of classification was that? Yan didn’t even have blood anymore, so it wasn’t like he could help. The pirates began to panic as none of them apparently shared the same blood type, and none of the bystanders wanted to step up.

“Oh wait!” Chopper exclaimed, realization dawning on his face that was squished between Robin’s hands, “Isn’t it a law here that you can’t give humans blood?”

Yan observed the scene, abject disappointment growing inside him. The Will of the City had been broken, yet nothing had changed. What was even the point of it all, then?

Just then, a figure stepped up, “Use my blood!” Jinbei said, rolling up the sleeve of his kimono, “It’s F! You can have as much as you need!”

“But the law says...” Chopper started, worry and concern evident in his voice.

“Pirates don’t follow the law,” was the simple explanation Jinbei gave. He laid down next to Luffy, eyes towards the sun, the two of them connected by a small, narrow red tube. It was too thin and short to be called a road, but it led them to each other nonetheless.

Yan found he couldn’t turn away from the scene in front of him, even though he no longer had any reason to stay. Disappointment melted into something else, something beyond the dull irritation and confusion he'd been grappling with all day. 

The last time he'd felt like this was months ago, when that light engulfed the world for three days. He hadn't felt quite happy at the time, but it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, like he had finally been able to lift his head and face what lay ahead.

He felt similarly now, and had to wonder. Had the Will of the City been broken that day? Was that what this weightlessness was?  He reigned himself in, refusing to get caught up in it. Not again. Because he knew this feeling wasn't meant to last. 

Because after the White Nights came the Dark Days.

The sense of absolute despair that had engulfed him during that time was something he never wanted to experience again. The darkness that had engulfed the world was different from the one behind his eyelids. The dark had been such a vivid blackness; deep and impenetrable with shifting shapes that threatened to jump out at him at any moment. Even now, the memory alone nearly sent him into a panic.

And who knew how long their White Nights would last. The island was cast in silence, but there would be a price for this, just as the City had. There had to be a price for Luffy doing the impossible. The White Nights and Dark Days had brought about the Distortion Phenomenon, and who knew what that meant for Fish-Man Island.

As if sensing his thoughts, Robin looked over her shoulder at Yan from where she still tended to Luffy. She smiled softly at him, something undeserved. She poured all her feelings into that smile. Don’t look away. Look at them. There is no one to guide the way, yet they move on.

He pulled the collar of his cloak higher, ducking his chin deeper into it. Hopefully no one noticed the trembling of his lips.

As soon as Luffy was able to move again, they had all scurried onto the Sunny. The hurried escape was a welcome distraction to Yan, and he didn’t protest when Nami pushed on his back when he didn't move fast enough for her.

This time, it was Megalo who towed the Sunny, and that was only because Shirahoshi decided to follow them out.

“Sir Yan! What you told me came true!” she said in delight, reaching out to hold both of Yan’s hands in hers, “I thought about what you said. And then the Neptunians came and helped us!”

“That’s great, Princess, I told you it was something only you could do,” Yan said, trying to keep his voice light. He still felt like he was in a daze, but offering banal words was second nature to him.

“Thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your advice!” she continued. Shirahoshi certainly knew how to lay it on thick.

Yan shook his head, “That’s untrue, you did it all on your own.” Which was the truth. Shirahoshi would have been fine without his intervention, yet he had gotten involved anyway. Why had he told her?

“Did you give her a Prescript?” Robin said, sauntering up to his side, “I thought you said you had no obligation to do so?” 

“I’m still a Messenger,” he said, though it felt hollow. He wasn’t sure what he was anymore. “I suppose old habits die hard.”

Robin hummed, and then a ruckus started behind them. The three turned to look at what was happening. “Why are you refusing, Jinbei!” Luffy yelled, full of energy and threatening to reopen his wounds as he grabbed at Jinbei’s clothing. Yan was honestly surprised at how quickly he was up and moving. He hadn't noticed anything particularly special about Chopper’s treatment. “Let’s go adventuring together!” Usopp and Chopper joined in on the recruitment as well, though the latter was at least trying to make an effort to pull Luffy away.

“I’m only saying I cannot join right now! I am grateful and overjoyed for your invitation!” Jinbei responded, with a harried look on his face, “I am sure that it would be a pleasure to voyage with you. But there is business yet to be done here! I have a position here...one I have temporarily set aside,” Luffy had finally been pulled away, and he regarded Jinbei’s speech with a serious frown on his face, “but once I have upheld my duties and all loose ends have been tied up I promise you I will return to you. If you still feel the same way about me then...will you still ask me to join the Straw Hat crew once again?” 

“You better come back! Got that!” Luffy demanded indignantly. One would forget that he was the captain here. And then Luffy whirled his head around to glower at Yan, “Yan! You better join after all that!”

How quickly the mood shifted. Gone was the joyful atmosphere of Luffy pestering Jinbei, and instead replaced with a heavy tension. All eyes turned to Yan, who only let go of Shirahoshi’s hands to turn around slowly. The girl worriedly watched the scene, sensing the atmosphere but unknowing of the cause.

How cruel of Luffy, to force him to make a decision when he was the very one to take the Prescripts away from him. It was worse that Luffy hadn’t even realized what he had done.

“Why did you open my book?” Yan finally asked. Again. This time he would get a proper answer. The ones not present for that event looked confused.

Luffy, for his part, just looked annoyed. “What? I told you already. You were crying inside it.”

“Is that truly the reason?”

“What other reason do I need!? If someone is asking for help, I’ll help them!” Luffy stepped closer to Yan, looking ready to brawl despite the magnanimous nature of his words.

Yan took a different approach, and he spoke in a nonchalant manner, "Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of opening my book, of the reasons I was trapped in there in the first place. That, perhaps, a great evil had been sealed away and now that I'm free"—and the word felt wrong on his tongue—"there's nothing stopping me from wreaking havoc upon the world. Are you sure you didn't want that power for yourself?” 

Yan didn’t believe himself to be evil, or even great, but he wasn’t completely unaware of how he came off. The words he spoke were lies, hyperboles meant to get his point through their thick skulls. Realization slowly dawned on their faces, all the evidence that was Yan adding up.

Luffy, however, stormed right past that, “I told you I want you to join my crew! Why are you being so weird about it?”

Hidden beneath his cloak, Yan’s fists clenched, “Twice now, you have stolen my purpose away from me, Monkey D. Luffy. Once, when you opened my book, and again, when you destroyed Noah. Now, you have left me with nothing except my own prolonged existence. And yet...” he unfurled his hands, “I cannot help but believe you are the person I've been waiting for my whole life." Yan smiled. It was small, and barely there, just peeking out over the golden edge of his cloak. “If you want me to join your crew, you'll pay the price: you'll be responsible for this monster, but in return I will do whatever you say, and follow you wherever you go.”

As Yan talked, Luffy’s expression had changed from a contentious frown to expectant glee, until finally, a wide smile stretched across Luffy’s face.

"What I'm saying is, I'll join you, if you'll have me," Yan concluded.

Yan was expecting the rubbery hug from Luffy, what he was not expecting was Chopper and Usopp to join him, nor the looks of relief to cross everyone else’s faces. He returned the embrace affably, and allowed himself to smile just a little bit more.

What was the right way to live life, in this place? Maybe through following Luffy, he could find the answer, and learn how to enjoy this hell.

Chapter Text

The king threw a party for them.

They had been just about to leave Fish-Man Island for good. Luffy didn't want to be recognized as a hero, and that meant hightailing it out of there before anyone stopped them.

They sacrificed stealth for speed. Not that they could really hide if they wanted to, with a giant mermaid swimming alongside their ship. If they were really trying to leave unnoticed they should have just told Shirahoshi to go away, princess or not. So Yan wasn't at all surprised when a squad of royal guards cornered them. There was an argument, and Luffy had been mid-rebuttal when they said the magic word 'feast,' and suddenly he didn't mind sticking around for a little longer, actually.

So they were at a party.

It all happened quickly. They were ushered onto long, flat flounders that, somehow,  emanated bubbles from their sides. It was like being in a private compartment at some fancy restaurant. Usopp sat at his side, explaining all this and more. Yan silently appreciated it, though could do without all the embellishments. 

The fish swam over the crowds of royal soldiers, who hailed them as heroes despite Luffy’s insistence otherwise. Until, finally, their fish stopped in a darkened room, a lone mermaid illuminated under a spotlight.

Yan's fingers curled in his lap. He waited with bated breath.

And then she started to sing.

Her voice rang out, like a bell dropped in an empty cathedral. It rippled out and echoed off the walls in a bewitching melody. But there was nothing supernatural about her voice. A hidden cue followed, and the music swelled as the band joined with a foot-tapping song. The dancers swayed to the beat, and the party started in earnest.

Yan relaxed his shoulders, feeling stupid despite himself. Not all music carried power, but the damage done by the Pianist had led people to believe that. All anyone initially understood of the incident was that a man had turned into a Distortion—the first Distortion—and that his music was the cause for nearly 300,000 people's deaths. The fallout had people scrambling to throw out instruments and music records. Musicians were forced to either forsake their craft or be ostracized from their community.

If they weren't killed first.

It was only weeks later, when a new Distortion made the rounds that everyone started to realize what was going on. But it was too little, too late. By then people had either sworn off music altogether or took it in the complete opposite direction. District 9's economy was in shambles, and the Musicians of Bremen emerged from the ashes with a fanatical desire to recreate the Pianist's sound.

Yan wondered how the Pianist felt, when that was his legacy. Was that the type of music he had wanted to create?

A drink was shoved into his hands, and Nami asked, “So, what’s on your mind?” her voice inflected in curiosity. Digging.

“I was just wondering how long she trained to get that good,” Yan answered easily. He didn't turn to face her from where she sat at his side.

“You didn't look like you enjoyed it though.”

Yan let his eyebrows pinch upwards, an almost sheepish expression crossing his face, for all that he didn't smile. “I just don't know much about music, much less opera. I’m not really sure what to say about her performance.”

He really didn't. Her voice warbled through the water, making already difficult to understand words that much harder to hear. Maybe because for all that he tried, he couldn’t help but hear the cries of a dog, a horse, and a rooster behind her voice.

Usopp threw an arm around Yan’s shoulders, and his drink nearly sloshed over the rim of his cup. Usopp's did, and Yan was vaguely aware of liquid splashing onto his knee. “You don't need to know about music to enjoy it,” Usopp breezily said with a wave of his free hand, “that’s what Brook’s always telling us anyways.”

On the other flounder, Brook danced along to the music. What were the odds of meeting another Distortion who utilized music? He didn't seem to be a follower of Bremen, but that had merely been the loudest faction, and he once again had to remind himself that Brook was an exception, not the norm.

(Yan would just make sure he was never in the same room as Brook, should he ever play the piano.)

“Brook is a musician, right?” Yan asked, shrugging off Usopp’s arm to take a sip of beer. He'd left his cloak behind on the ship at Nami’s insistence, but he couldn't help but feel naked without it. 

The two were more than eager to correct Yan and inform him that Brook was a famous musician, one who apparently was on tour during their separation. The conversation quickly moved on to what Nami and Usopp had been doing for the past two years, and then Usopp launched into a story about giant beetles and man-eating flowers that almost didn’t sound true. 

Songs bled into each other, from jazzy swing music to guitar ballads when Brook eventually got on stage. And aside from Yan’s initial feeling of trepidation, the party was fine. He could say he had literally never been to a party like this, with dancing mermaids and jolly pirates. 

It was definitely an...experience, to say the least.

But he had always been good at adjusting on the fly, and quickly rolled with this absurd situation. A steady stream of food and drink was served, along with the sheer amount of people who just wanted to talk to them. Yan had never felt so popular in his life, and stopped trying to keep count of how many people thanked him for protecting the Princess. It was something he wasn’t used to, and so he carefully deflected their gratitude to his new crewmates.

None of them brought up what happened earlier, though he could still feel their curious gazes and wandering eyes. Maybe they didn’t know what to say. Yan wouldn’t have the words even if they did. The Voice of the Island still hadn’t returned to him, and it was reflected in the still dim strings in his chest. 

Yan Vismok’s world ended at his fingertips, while 얀샋ㄷ요무’s world stretched as far as the Prescripts could see. It was a small, yet distinct, difference to make.

And right now, Yan was the one left behind.

His Haki was hit the hardest. It was actually worse than how it had been on the seas. As it was now, he could only pick out the blackened silhouettes of others. Before, he had been able to differentiate colors because the Prescripts had helpfully supplied him with that knowledge. 

Luffy was the only one with picture perfect features, because try as he might he still remembered how Luffy looked from that brief moment hours ago. In Yan's black and white movie, Luffy was the only one with any color.

But Yan had never been bothered by the lack of sight. He had shut his eyes to block out the pain of the City. He didn’t have to acknowledge the hurt around him, nor the hurt he inflicted, just the hurt buried deep within him.

No, what bothered him was the absolute silence.

There was a gap in all the noise where the Prescripts should be. In the lull between conversations, the tremor of the instruments, in the swaying of the dancers’ hips. All of those should have swayed the pendulum of the island, but it remained still, and silent.

It reminded him too much of the Dark Days.

But the Straw Hats were loud, and demanded all of his attention. There was no time to dwell on his thoughts when Camie pulled him into a spinning dance, or Usopp spun a story that he pretended not to find interesting, or when Yan, Luffy, and Franky stretched their arms across the gap so the dancers could swing and jump from them. These pirates truly embodied the phrase ‘living in the moment.’

The party was a whirlwind of activity. Yan didn’t know how long it went on until he was finally able to sit down again. Luffy had wanted to play another game of Keep Away, but this time he was trying to take a large piece of grilled meat from Yan. He would have given up pretty quickly, but there was a rather sizable betting pool going on over how long it would take Luffy to grab it, and Nami’s conspicuous coughing told him he wasn't allowed to lose until it was at a number she was satisfied with.

While Nami counted her earnings, Yan stretched out his wrists before taking a hard earned sip of his drink. His brow furrowed. “Have you been refilling my cup?”

She snickered, and without a hint of shame filled it back up to the brim. “You finally noticed! I was wondering how long it’d take.”

“Are you trying to take advantage of me?” He asked lightly, “Get me drunk so you can steal all my valuables?” Yan didn’t know how much he had already in between all the activities, but it was enough to know he couldn’t get drunk anymore. 

He wasn't surprised. 

“Oh, I already searched you,” Nami said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I thought for sure you’d have some money on you, with the fancy suit and all, but you’re flat broke! Why do none of the men in my life have a Beri to their names!” she downed her drink at an alarming speed.

“When did you—”

“Don’t worry about it!” Nami hung off his arm, already over her earlier despair, “Come on, you have a beautiful lady pouring you drinks, live a little!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Yan said, keeping his voice even.

Nami let out a dramatic gasp, manicured hand on her chest. “You’re so cold!” but she laughed as she said it. “Fine, if this isn’t fun for you, I can think of something better we can do.” her voice took on a sultry tone, and she pressed even closer against him. She smelled like tangerines and sea salt.

It was obvious she wasn't being serious, but he was still careful when he asked, “What...did you have in mind?”

Nami leaned down to whisper in his ear, and Yan pointedly ignored Sanji’s sudden murderous intent from across the room, “I’m thinking we can use that Haki of yours to cheat at some card games, maybe swindle some poor sods out of their money. What do you say?” She still wasn’t satisfied?

His future sight was practically nothing now, but there were other ways to cheat at cards. Yan relaxed a little, “Oh, that’s all? Yeah, we can do that.”

He could practically hear the cheeky grin on her face when she said, “Were you thinking something naughty, Yan?”

“If by naughty you mean planning the best route to the royal treasure vault, then yes, I was,” he tilted his head and smiled tightly at her, “but we can do your idea.”

“Now wait a second, tell me more abou—Hey!” A hand reached down and plucked Yan’s drink right from his grasp. Zoro plopped down on Yan’s other side, and took a sip of his drink. Thoughts of treasure momentarily forgotten, Nami reached across Yan, vying for the mug. “Get your own! I’m trying to get him drunk here, Zoro!” 

She admitted it so easily...

“I ran out,”  Zoro answered, before chugging the beer in one go. He discarded the now empty mug, and reached back across Yan, going for Nami's abandoned drink.

Nami smacked his hand away, but it did little to deter Zoro, who only tried again. “Then wait for them to get more!” She leaned away, holding her drink closer to herself.

Zoro leaned farther across Yan, practically halfway on top of him, arm outstretched. “I got bored of waiting,” and then the two were swatting childishly at each other, with little regard for the person in between them. Did none of them understand the concept of personal space? 

Yan barely dodged an elbow to the face.

Something brushed just behind his ear, unnoticed until he heard, “Meet me on the terrace in five minutes,” in Robin's cool voice. It was only when it was gone that he realized it had been a mouth behind his ear. He idly rubbed at the spot while he recalled where she was. Robin was on the other flounder, and cooed at something Franky said, not paying Yan a bit of mind.

Yan waited for an opening in Nami and Zoro’s bickering, and then he caught both of their wrists. Their squabbling abruptly ceased, and they simultaneously, slowly, turned their heads towards him. He smiled his best customer service smile at them, “I'm gonna get some air for a bit, I think the alcohol's getting to my head.”

He stood up without preamble, and made his way off the flounder. His unsteady footing at least gave the impression that he was tipsy. 

“Wait! Yan! What about the treasure!?” Nami called after him. Zoro finally stole her drink.

It didn’t take him long to find the terrace, and he walked out into the cool night air. The terrace was spacious, more fit for merpeople than normal humans. He stood away from the entrance; far enough to not be immediately seen but close enough that Robin wouldn’t have to look far. 

He was alone for now, though, and breathed out slowly. The fresh air did help to clear his head, and it was a nice break from the general excitement of the party. The ground thrummed with the beat of the music, and he heard Luffy’s loud laughter break past the drums.

Standing out here like this, it all almost felt normal. Like he was a normal person at a normal party. Like the last 24 hours hadn’t been full of tonal whiplash. Like his life hadn't completely fallen apart.

Like he wasn’t a Distortion. 

Yan could almost pretend it was just a bad dream. He pinched his cheek. It felt like absolutely nothing at all, and when he dropped his hand he was still here. 

Sighing, he hopped up and sat on the railing, one leg crossed in front of him. Ryugu Castle sat in its own bubble far above the island itself, watching over all its subjects. He ‘looked’ down over the edge, and the void stared back at him. What were the people doing, right about now? Were they scared about the sudden upheaval of their lives? What would they do when they woke up in the morning?

“If this happened to us, what would you have done?” he whispered into the dark, and held his breath. The music died out with the click of the front door behind him, and his hair brushed against his face from the force of the ceiling fan, turned all the way on. The upright chair sat in front of him, stiff and taciturn. He did not look up. “Yeah,” he exhaled, “that’s what I thought.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Robin said, and the music was suddenly loud in his ears, startling him out of his memory. Yan didn’t flinch, for all that she did sneak up on him. He swallowed the memory and turned around slowly.

When he faced her his expression was back in place. “Not really, the break was nice.” He hopped off the railing to meet her halfway.

Robin fanned herself, “I also needed a much needed break. Large parties aren’t exactly my scene.”

Yan could understand the feeling. “So what did you want to talk about?” He had a few ideas, but didn't offer them.

Robin held up a hand, “In a moment, we’re still waiting on someone else,” she said, “I didn’t pull you away from anything though, did I? It seemed you and Nami were having a lot of fun.” There was a teasing lilt in her voice, and he could imagine the smirk on her lips.

Was he having fun? Like trying to dislodge a popcorn kernel stuck in his teeth, he mentally probed at the thought.

Months ago, he would have enjoyed a party like this. He’d complain that he didn’t really want to go, but then would chastise his friends for being late. They’d make stupid decisions and throw away what little money they had. He would leave the party exhausted from all the socializing, but still glad that he went. He'd sleep in late the next day, and only wake up due to the incessant buzzing of his phone. He'd blind himself unlocking it to read the swarms of messages from his friends, and would beg them to delete the embarrassing pictures they took. He'd laugh even as his hangover spiked, and made plans to do it all over again.

Now—

Now he tongued at the small abscess where that kernel had rested. He’d mimicked himself the whole night, knowing what it was supposed to feel like. He poked and prodded and pressed, remembering that same sharp and pleasant sensation, but all he felt was its hollow impression.

It was for the best. Sentimentality never got him anywhere.

So however long this lasted, he would put on an act. He would smile at their jokes and indulge in their whims. He would follow them, only to see where this path would go. He would follow their orders, until the City told him otherwise. His will still belonged to the City, and that would never change, but maybe through Luffy it could become more…bearable.

But that was it. There was a line he had to draw with them. He could see them as teammates, comrades, coworkers, but Yan could never consider them friends. 

Never again.

He smiled slightly, tight as a zipper, and said, “Yeah, I've been having fun.”

They were better company than the Proxies, at least.

He couldn't tell if Robin saw through him or not, but all she said was, “That's good. I know our group can be a bit loud and overwhelming, but they grow on you,” her tone turned mischievous, “like a mold.”

Yan had not been expecting her to describe her own friend group that way, and something like amusement wormed through him. “Tell me, is there a cure?” He asked, playing along in mock languishment. 

“Oh, no, I’m afraid you’re already done for,” she said, like a conspiracy.

“Well,” he shrugged, “I suppose there are worse ways to go.”

Apparently there were worse ways to go, because Robin took that as her cue to lecture him on the various types of fungi she had seen during her travels, and went into great detail on how each one could kill a person. Yan listened attentively, storing the information in the back of his head, just in case. They spent the next few minutes in light conversation, though anyone listening in would probably disagree.

Robin was in the middle of describing a type of spore that caused one to think their skin was burning off when a large shadow casted over them. She paused, and looked towards the large figure toddling over. A shame. Yan was curious about how that worked.

“What did you want to discuss, Straw Hat Pirates?” a very injured King Neptune approached, sake gourd in hand. No doubt drinking to take off the edge.

“Pardon me, there was something we needed to discuss with you,” Robin said. Again, he had an idea, but didn’t let it show.

“Of course, far be it from me to refuse our saviors,” Neptune said, “What was it?”

“Who is Joy Boy?”

Drums echoed behind them.

There was a hollow clunk of the gourd hitting the ground, barely audible in all the noise. Neptune did not say a word, and Robin pressed on, “I read the Poneglyph in the Forest of the Sea. Who was he apologizing to?”

When Yan told her about finding someone alive who knew Joy Boy, well, he thought she’d at least wait a day or something. He didn't expect Robin to be so direct about it at least. 

“You can... read that?” Fearful realization drained the color on Neptune’s face. If that fact was enough to give a king pause, then perhaps Yan was underestimating the significance of the Poneglyphs.

“I am a survivor of Ohara," Robin said, by way of explanation. Neptune tensed in recognition, so Yan supposed it really was all the explanation he needed. Yan could only assume Ohara had been a nation or island that passed down the language. Or something to that effect.

And the word survivor. Yan could put two and two together.

Robin was cool and composed, as usual, but Yan found himself taking a step closer anyways, like her shadow. The movement caught Neptune’s attention. “And you? Can you read it as well?”

Yan shook his head. “I can hear them, through what you call The Voice of All Things.”

“By the seas...” Neptune slumped to the ground, his fin curled up to his chest in a position that was completely undignified of his station.

“You don’t have to tell us, if you don’t want to say,” Robin mercifully offered. Yan could tell it was merely a formality; if Neptune didn't tell her, then she would just go find someone else.

“No...I will tell you everything I know. I trust you all...” Neptune managed out, though it sounded like that was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He took a deep breath, and spoke, “Joy Boy is a person who lived on the surface during the 100-Year Void.”

“So, at least 800 years ago,” Robin clarified.

Neptune nodded, and continued, shoulders hunched and eyes to the ground, “That message was meant for the mermaid princess on the island at the time. It was an apology for breaking a promise made with Fish-Man Island.”

Robin nodded at Yan, “It seems your theory was correct.”

“His message didn’t specify what exactly his promise was, though,” he reminded.

“Of course not. The contents of that promise are not clear, but someone will come along to fulfill the promise in Joy Boy’s stead. At least, according to the royal legend,” Neptune explained, wrapping his arms around the bend of his fin, “so we believe in that day, and uphold our part of the promise by protecting Noah through the generations. For it is not until the day the promise comes about that Noah will fulfill its actual purpose!” Neptune’s voice gained more conviction as he spoke, and by the time he was done he was looking them in the eyes.

Robin met his with that unwavering gaze of hers. “After everything ended above the island, I heard Noah was taken to the Forest of the Sea by Neptunians. If Joyboy was meant to use Noah, could he have the power to control Neptunians?”

“I don't think that's quite right,” Yan cut in, “they said that their sovereign was a mermaid, and that they were waiting for Princess Shirahoshi.”

They hadn’t had a chance to compare notes before now. Robin, already used to Yan’s powers, merely nodded, but Neptune let out a pained noise at his words. “So you can even hear the Neptunians...” he sighed, hand on his forehead, “you’re correct. The only one who could use that power was the mermaid princess of the time.” 

“As I thought. Meaning Princess Shirahoshi can do the same thing?” Robin asked.

Yan nodded at the same time Neptune said, “Yes, and I believe that latent ability came fully to the fore today,” he sighed, and averted his eyes again, “not that it brings me any joy.”

“I don’t blame you,” Robin consoled, and then quickly changed the subject, “two years ago, I read a Poneglyph on an island in the sky that contained the location of an ancient weapon. And that location was here,” she said, finally getting to what she was really after. “Could the mermaid princess who lived in the time of Joy Boy have another name? A name that Princess Shirahoshi, who has the same power, will now inherit as her own. 

“Her other name is in fact—” 

Something slithered.

Without turning around, he outstretched his arm behind him. “Lock.” Yan muttered, and at the other end of the terrace the banister exploded into pieces. There was a yelp, followed by the sound of rolling clay.

“What in the-who’s there!?” Neptune was instantly on his feet (rather, fin). His head swiveled back and forth between the destroyed railing and Yan, unsure of which one to focus on first.

“That looked like Caribou,” there was an edge in Robin’s voice. “How much do you think he heard?”

“I stopped him from hearing the most important part,” Yan answered, in an attempt to cover up the fact that he missed. He had been relying on his normal hearing, and had compensated by increasing the range of his attack. 

His brow furrowed. No. He did make contact, he could tell. It was just that the chains had only held for a second before dissipating on their own.

He touched the brittle strings in his chest, and exhaled. “What are your orders?”

“Go after him.” Robin paused, jaw tight, then added, “Apprehend him. Alive, preferably.”

He was already moving at the word “Go,” and Robin strode back towards the building.

Neptune held his hand up. Towards who, it didn't matter.  “Now, wait a minute! Let us handle—”

Yan vaulted over the banister, and leapt into the void.

Chapter Text

“There you are, my King,” Jinbei said.

“My apologies for the delay.” King Neptune rushed into the prison tower, sweaty and out of breath. Jinbei frowned. The King was getting older, but not old enough that the walk to the prison tower would wind him, even with his injuries. 

Jinbei studied him a moment longer. There was a crease in his King's brow, one that was only there when he heard news he didn't like. 

Something had happened.

“There was no delay at all, but we figured you'd want to see this sooner rather than later,” one of his advisors said. He gestured to the prison cell in front of them, where Hody and his men were held.

Jinbei finally looked towards the reason they had all gathered here, and his eyes widened in horror. Hody and his men had aged. Their bodies were old and wrinkled, with sagging muscle that Jinbei had only ever seen in the most extreme cases of weight loss. They could barely support their own bodies, yet continued posturing in a way that only garnered pity.

What could have caused this?

“Filthy, pathetic humans!” Hody began, “Hatred never disappears. Vengeance will have its day! Bring me—”

“That human!” Zeo yelled into the open, interrupting his captain. His voice rattled with his grip on the bars. “You have to kill that human! He knew this would happen to us. I don't know how, but he knew!" His voice echoed off the high walls, letting the proclamation hang in the air, until a series of coughing fits drowned them out. 

“Straw hat?” Prince Fukaboshi inquired.

No. Jinbei knew exactly who he meant.

"That human with the white hair! He knew this would happen to us! 'Become old in your youth,' he said!" Zeo frantically explained, "He's a danger to Fish-Man Island!" The speed of his explanation left him wheezing.

Just how far in the future could Yan see? Robin said an hour, but it had already been several at this point. "When did he tell you this?" Jinbei questioned, taking control of the interrogation.

"During our battle!"

If anything, King Neptune’s expression only became more troubled.

The two of them shared a look to each other, a whole conversation going unspoken between them. "That human helped save Fish-Man Island," Neptune finally said. The rumble in his voice and the firm set of his jaw gave the impression that there was no room for argument. The merman was such a doting father that people easily forgot he was a king. 

Hody certainly had.

But Jinbei had known Neptune too long to be fooled. His king was deeply troubled by something in their words.

“So it’s true,” The current head guard stepped forward, seamlessly inserting himself where his king had fallen silent, “the energy steroids were the legendary pills stored inside the Tamate treasure box. I remember ten years ago, when the contents of the box suddenly vanished. We never found out who did it, and his Majesty chose to hide the truth to avoid a panic. And now that I think of it, that was around the time you left the Royal Guard, Hody.”

“That’s right! I stole them!” Hody stepped forward, sticking his head through the bars in an attempt to intimidate them. Though it was more like his face was pressed into the metal, whole body quaking but refusing to give it the rest it sorely needed.

The pitiful sight seemed to shake King Neptune from his reverie. “The pills inside the Tamate Box are so ancient that even the legends surrounding them have grown vague,” he began.

"Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of opening my book, of the reasons I was trapped in there in the first place.”

The memory was sudden, spoken almost like an answer, and now that Jinbei remembered it, he couldn’t get the words out of his head.

“Some tales said it gave on the strength of a thousand. Others said they aged the imbiber! This was too strange and unique to be a national treasure. I suspect it was actually a dangerous drug that was labeled a ‘treasure’ in order to keep it out of the people’s hands—”

“That, perhaps, a great evil had been sealed away and now that I'm free, there's nothing stopping me from wreaking havoc upon the world. Are you sure you didn't want that power for yourself?” 

“—You opened a box that must never be opened, and were foolish enough to think you had gained great power without a price.”

"I learned the truth about your Voice of All Things and paid the price for it." 

It was merely a whisper, like trying to read a page through broken glass.

Jinbei stood there in silence, piecing together those shards even as the conversation continued without him. 

From the get go, he had always been wary of that mysterious outsider. There was something wrong about that boy. It wasn’t his appearance—Jinbei had seen his fair share of bizarre looking people—but something far more intrinsic. It was the way he carried himself with that casually stoic air, to the way he spoke of things most humans had never even conceived, all with the aplomb of someone who considered it a given.

Even now, Jinbei had no clue what to make of Yan. That boy was a complete enigma to him, and their attempts to question him earlier were met with confusing answers. There was a tedium in the way he spoke, as if he was disappointed in their lack of knowledge, but considered it too much effort to teach them.

Far be it for Jinbei to assume anything about Yan's life, but he could see it: a boy born hearing The Voice of All Things, who grew up with a natural talent for Observation Haki. He was put into a position of fearful exaltation, unknowing that he was a prisoner while his community used him for his power. At some point Yan must have realized what was going on and tried to fight back, only to be sealed away in a book of all things. 

To be betrayed like that, it was little wonder why he assumed Luffy wanted to use him. It was a bleak picture, and one Jinbei hoped wasn't true. 

But he knew firsthand how cruel humans could be.

Jinbei had kept an eye on him all throughout the party. To anyone who hadn't witnessed the scene at the plaza, Yan seemed completely fine, but Jinbei hadn't survived this long with just his strength alone. Reading humans didn't come naturally to him, but years of being a Warlord had honed that skill.

Yan had perked up a bit as the festivities went on. It seemed even their aloof companion wasn't immune to a good 'ol Straw Hat party. But Jinbei noticed moments where the newest Straw Hat would withdraw into himself. Moments where that small smile slid off his face like oil on water, where it seemed like he wasn't entirely present.

When he saw Yan wander outside, Jinbei followed him with the full intention to question him himself. But the sight of that small back, those sagged shoulders, his hair blowing in the wind like a sheet left out to dry.

He couldn't bring himself to step over that divide.

“Jinbei.”

He snapped back to the present, and Jinbei realized the only two left in the room were himself and Neptune. His king notably didn’t comment on his lack of attention, only looking at him with tried, weary, eyes.

“My apologies, King Neptune, my mind was elsewhere for a moment.” How could he zone out like that, when the very danger that had threatened their home was right in front of him?

“It is of no consequence. But come, follow me. There is something I must tell you,” Neptune said, already turning because he knew Jinbei would follow, “it concerns someone you know.”

One thought repeated throughout his head.

Yan Vismok.

Just who are you?

Caribou was slippery in every sense of the word. 

He was faster than Yan, and kept himself just out of reach. He slipped around corners and down narrow streets, leading to this circuit around the city.

But he was also scared, and kept making mistakes. He was unfamiliar with the terrain, and it showed in how he kept jostling objects when he slid past and ran down the same streets. If even one of those mistakes were corrected Yan would lose him.

Currently, Yan’s strategy was to stall. He could chase him forever, if need be, but Caribou was unfortunately human. It was only a matter of time before he exhausted himself, and then Yan would strike.

The sound of rolling clay disappeared, and he slowed to a stop. He strained his senses. The space beside him suddenly felt too empty, and a breeze brushed his bangs: an alley, and at the other end was his quarry, pressed against the wall and struggling to hide his breathing, But no movement.

A dead end.

He turned his head first, then stepped past the divide.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s talk this through!” Caribou called frantically. He wasn’t quite yelling, but his voice did carry; so the alley wasn’t too long. Yan calculated he could get to the other end in ten—no—fifteen steps.

He took another step. Metal clanged as his shoe scraped against a trash can. If it was right up against the wall like he expected then the alley was more narrow than he thought: too narrow to swing a sword properly. Maybe Zoro could get away with not marking up the walls, but the same wouldn’t hold true for Yan. 

Yan hadn’t answered Caribou, yet his target continued like he had. “Look! I see you! You’re not like those pirates. You only helped them out ‘cause it’s advantageous to you. I get it! But you and I, we’re the same.”

There was the sharp clack of his shoes against stone.

Clack. Clack.

“I agree, we are the same,” he finally said. All humans were.

“See! I knew you’d understand me! There’s no bad blood between us, right?” He could hear the slick smile in Caribou’s voice. “So, why don’t you say we team up and get out of here?”

Yan thought back to his orders, and recalled the definitions for each individual word, just like he'd been taught. He had a considerable amount of leeway, so it was up to him to create the ideal result.

“Why should I do that? What can you offer me that they cannot?”

Clack. Clack. Clack.

“Money! Women! Fame! You name it! With your future sight and my devil fruit we’d be unstoppable!” Caribou bargained, each word growing more and more strained.

He had no use for any of that. He sighed, hard enough to ruffle his hair, and it fell back over his eyes. This conversation was getting tedious. 

Clack. Clack. Squish.

His foot sank unnaturally into the ground, as if he had misjudged the depth of a stray puddle and instead fell into a pothole. He backstepped, but the liquid latched onto his other leg like a clingy lover. Muddy fingers climbed up his legs. He flinched.

It was all Caribou needed. 

Caribou descended upon him, face mere inches from his own. He loomed over him like a towering wave, eager to swallow him up.

“Did you really take me for a fool? Did you think I wouldn’t notice your real allegiance?” The entire lower half of his body had transformed into a liquid, one that perfectly molded into the alley. He raised his arms high, mud trailing off them in a thick waterfall. “And now you’ve stepped right into my swamp body!” 

So much for talking this through.

Yan reared his arm back, and stabbed his hand out towards Caribou’s heart. The flesh separated and then came back together around his wrist, as if he had dipped his hand into a mold.

Great. Now both his legs and arm were stuck.

A cackle bounced off the walls. “You can’t harm me! This swamp body is indestru—” a wet cough interrupted Caribou, and black ink splattered across his chin. Corrosive ink dripped off Yan’s hand, and burned through the mud like fire to oil.

“What’s happening? This isn’t how it’s supposed to—” Caribou’s body collapsed backwards into a puddle, beginning to stretch out and spread around the alley. Yet it still didn't let go of Yan, and he fell to his knees after him. The mud was up to his thighs now, but he used what little movement he had to lean over Caribou’s face.

“Like you said,” Yan whispered their secret into his ear, “we’re the same.”

Caribou’s hands wrapped around Yan’s arm, fingers scrabbling to push him away. Chipped nails tried to cut through his sleeve, and all he got for his efforts was bunching up the fabric. Yan didn’t budge.

“P-Please, please, I'll let you go! I swear! Just let me live!”

He hated it when they begged, as if Yan could change the outcome here. Yet another voice that would haunt him.

“Please! I'll do anything else! Just give me a different Prescript!”

“Don't make me do this! I'll give you anything you want! Please!”

“Why are you doing this, Yan!? Aren't we frien—”

The muddy flower unfurled its petals. 

He pulled out his hand.

A gasp of pure relief.

And then he shoved his fist in Caribou’s open mouth. 

His muffled cries were frantic, desperate, the horror movie on the television counterfeit to their screams. Choked words vibrated against his hand, the low groan almost enough to make him think he was back in that bunker. Crooked teeth bit down on the hand that fed him, and with every futile breath black ichor burned down his throat like a final toast. The grip around his arm went slack, and Caribou’s chest shuddered with a final gurgling sound.

Then stilled.

There was only silence as the mud slowly seeped over the pavement, burying Caribou in his shallow grave. Like the dying embers of a pyre, it crackled and evaporated, carrying his soul away like tiny, frail moths.

Yan wrenched his hand free. He rose to his feet, head still tilted down. The curtain hung over his shuttered eyes, and the body below him was obscured behind his neighbor’s window. Standing over the body like this, it was all a bit too familiar. 

He pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. Whiskey and plaque and ink and blood swirled in his nostrils in an unholy concoction. His other hand hung by his side, flexing and unflexing around an object that wasn’t there.

Which night was this?  Which memory was this? 

Receive a Prescript—the stench of iron clung to his lungs—and carry it out—the Messenger held out their hand, not even waiting—

Right. Onto the next.

He turned abruptly on his heel, took one step and—

—Promptly tripped over something.

He landed face first on the ground, feet up in the air. For a long moment he did nothing except await judgment.

An (former) Index Messenger, brought low by a shin high object. Gloria would laugh until she overheated if she saw him.

What was it that he even tripped over? It wasn’t there a minute ago. He turned himself over, placing a steadying hand beside him. There was a soft clink when his fingers brushed against something. Momentarily distracted, he picked it up, turning it over in his hand. 

Its surface was smooth against his thumb, and no larger than it. It was cut into a square shape, with sharp, sloping edges. There was a prong at each corner, held in a cradle of sweeping metallic ridges. He flipped it over, and a sharp needle attempted to pierce him.

Oh, it was a brooch.

He set it aside and finally reached out to what had tripped him. He ran his hands over its curved head, down and along its rigid body. His fingers brushed over a protrusion—a latch. He threw open the lid of the box. A waterfall of coins cascaded out, bouncing off his legs and onto the ground in a melody that would make Nami sing.

Slightly dumbfounded, he experimented, and reached out to his other side. He knocked over a gold and velvet crown, which rolled across the ground, only stopping when it reached another chest. 

He was surrounded by treasure. 

Piles upon piles of treasure.

Well, it wasn’t like he was told when to head back.

“Yan! There you are!”

A voice that was growing familiar called out to him, and the Messenger—no—pirate turned over his shoulder, only realizing it was useless when his face brushed against the giant knapsack he carried. Yan had spent an indeterminate amount of  time combing the alley for any treasure Caribou’s body had spit back up, stuffing each and every item into the giant sheet he’d found among them. 

He pushed that cloth to its limits, and by the time he was done his makeshift backpack absolutely dwarfed him in size. He was honestly surprised Luffy had even recognized him, when from the back he just looked like a giant ball with feet.

It had been an embarrassing ordeal just getting out of the alley.

Yan turned around fully, regarding Luffy and the other two sets of footsteps that accompanied him. Soon, he’d learn to recognize them by sound alone. “Hello Captain. What are you doing here?”

Luffy skidded to a stop right in front of him, stopping so close Yan felt the brush of wind. “Robin told us to come find you!”

“And help you with Caribou. She said you went after him,” Sanji added, followed by the huff of a cigarette. 

Did she not think him capable? He had hoped to prove himself competent enough even without his powers. “I handled the situation. He won’t be bothering you anymore,” Yan reported. Luffy didn’t seem the type to care about the details, which suited him just fine. A simple ‘the Prescript has been fulfilled’ sufficed back home.

There was the shifting of fabric from Luffy’s other side, and Yan regarded them just as they started to speak. “What’s with the bag?” Zoro asked, trying not to sound interested.

“It’s treasure. I’m not sure how exactly he did it, but it all came out of his body,” and to prove his point, Yan sat down the bag and unfurled the knot. The tightly packed ball of treasure tumbled down into a sea of gold and jewels, accompanying the excited gasps of his crewmates.

“So he really did take all the treasure! Get a load of how much there is!” Sanji picked up a giant chalice, as if to make sure it was all real.

“Think of all the meat we can buy with this!” Luffy laughed as he jumped up and down, a treasure chest hefted over his head. “And the king said we get to keep all of it!”

That had been the plan from the start, finder’s keepers after all, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t have to fight for it.

“Okay then!” Luffy finally stood still and pointed into the far distance. “Let’s haul these to the palace!”

“I’ll pack it all up,” Yan bent down and started gathering everything back into a rickety pile, adjusting it just so. Since it was all in one place, it shouldn’t take as long to pack back up.

“Look what I found!” With a flourish, Sanji pulled out another cloth from the pile. Yan’s brow twitched, he had specifically stuffed it there as a sort of load bearing material. As if on cue, the pile crumbled even more. Yan began sorting it again.

“Don’t act so proud of yourself, Curly Brows,” and Zoro yanked out another cloth, holding it high with a smirk on his face. The pile Yan had just formed fell back apart.

“I bet I can pack it all faster than you.”

“In your dreams, Marimo!” And the two of them were hauling treasure to their own bags with a speed that Yan couldn’t follow. Once again, he preoccupied himself with his own work.

“Oh look! Another one!” Luffy exclaimed, pulling out yet another cloth, and then he was in the competition. There was a crash in the background. Yan exhaled heavily through his nose, and sat back on his heels.

He sat there, resigned to his fate, letting them help themselves. He couldn’t help but notice that  even though they seemed to be grabbing things indiscriminately, they all ended up with treasure suited to their own tastes. Zoro acquired the ornate sword and other ceremonial daggers, Luffy with shiny trinkets with interesting shapes, and Sanji the mermaid statue with...unique proportions.

In no time at all, everything was sorted, and the four of them hefted their bags onto their shoulders. “Which way’s the town, Zoro?” Luffy asked lightly.

“That way.” He pointed off to the side.

“Okay, we’re going the opposite way,” Sanji said with a sidelong smirk at his crewmate.

“Hey!”

Yan’s lips quirked for a moment, and then they were off, indeed moving in the opposite direction. The two bickered in a way that he was beginning to expect, all while Luffy laughed and tellingly didn’t take any side.

They walked for a bit, down a path that Yan didn’t remember taking. The ground felt different under his feet, the roads too wide and uneven, and he could even hear people up ahead. There seemed to be some sort of dispute going on, if their raised voices were anything to go by.

“Hey! That’s the Sweets Factory. Remember when Pappagu mentioned it?” Luffy suddenly said, changing the subject from their previous conversation about which pieces of treasure they wanted to keep as trophies.

Yan hadn’t been there for whatever Pappagu said about the factory, but from what he pieced together from the Will of the Island, they were supplying sweets to some third party. However, the factory had been deliberately damaged by one of Hody’s men during their coup, rendering it unusable. 

In front of it, a lion Distortion in a suit was arguing with one of the royal officials, so clearly there was some dispute about the whole matter. Given how long they’d been arguing, they were getting nowhere fast.

“Who are you? You’re not a Fish-Man! Did you come to buy some sweets?” Without a care in the world, Luffy inserted himself between them. “Good idea! I just stuffed myself silly on ‘em!”

The Distortion leaned into the Fish-Man’s space, baring his fangs on his otherwise cute face. “What’s goin’ on here? He just said he was eatin’ some!”

“Pekoms! Glaring at every man, woman, and child will not get you our sweets back!” Seated several meters away was another similarly dressed man with a mustache in the shape of a perfect, elongated w. “Let us explore more peaceful means. Le tea party is in quatre days. If we are able to leave on the morrow, we should return in time.”

The man took a prolonged sip out of a teacup, and Yan silently bemoaned the theatrics of syndicate members. He placed the cup atop his saucer-like hat, and finally regarded Luffy and them with his sunglassed eyes. “Ahem, a very bonjour to you, half-boiled pirates. Je m’appelle Baron Tamago, at your service. Do remember the name, s’il vous plait.” 

He stood up to his full height, and somehow his appearance was even stranger than the now-named Pekoms. His legs alone were taller than them, and it was like the upper half of his body was hatching out of an eggshell. “Now, did I happen to hear that you had dined upon le sweets?”

“I sure did! In fact, I could go for some more, if you’ve got any!” Luffy answered without a hint of shame, and Yan fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. The question had been rhetorical. Rhetorical!

And so Baron Tamago launched into his explanation. “But the lack of just such is our current problẽme. That logo you see adorning the factory is the jolly roger of our boss, Charlotte Linlin. This is a sign that the island is le territory of the Pirate Emperor, Big Mom.”

Typical syndicate drama. It was all so familiar that he paid half a mind to the rest of the conversation, even if it was far more entertaining than most others he’d witnessed before.

Receive protection from a syndicate. Offer something up in exchange. The specifics varied across the City, but the practice was the same everywhere you went. Big Mom and her pirates protected Fish-Man Island in exchange for an exuberant amount of candy. It was a pretty good deal on the surface, though Yan knew it was never that simple.

Case in point: Hody was a citizen of Fish-man Island, and therefore his coup was classified as an ‘internal affair’ and was to be handled as such. The protection agreement was not broken, ergo, Fish-Man Island still had to uphold their end of the deal. If this had been any of the Fingers, there would have been high ranking officials posted around to prevent it from getting to this point in the first place The fact that they only arrived after the fact told Yan everything he needed to know.

And thus.

“The arrangement is void! Big Mom will send her fiercest corsaires to bring Fish-Man Island to utter ruination!” Baron Tamago recited his script out, so predictably that Yan found himself mouthing the words.

“She's gonna destroy Fish-Man Island!? Are you guys nuts!? Who destroys a kingdom over desserts? We just saved this island!” Luffy yelled out, fist raised.

It was ridiculous, and none of them realized that was the point. That frivolousness was intentional, because they knew they could get away with it. Such was the nature of powerful syndicates: slowly establishing more and more ludicrous rules, testing what would and wouldn’t be followed, until eventually your entire family was wiped out because you spilled ice cream on a Middle Big Brother’s shoes.

Even if there was some loophole in their contract it wouldn't matter. They could already get away with such stupid stuff, so why would Fish-Man Island object to the actual pertinent details. They could always just throw Hody and his men to the wolves. It’d be a short term solution to the problem, and it’d buy them enough time to at least get a shipment of candy out. But given that Big Mom wanted her candy now, Yan didn’t think that plan would actually work. 

What more could be done? Fish-Man Island was to be destroyed. Dot your i’s, stamp the Prescript, and send it out for completion.

What a typical, boring, ending.

The phone rang.

Chapter Text

Yan was currently laid out on the ground.

It would have been more humiliating, if not for the fact he wasn’t alone: Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro were next to him, the four of them lined up like sardines for the chopping block. Their butcher stood over them, raised fist trembling. From anger or the exertion of hitting four grown men was unclear. Regardless, it was poised for another strike if any of them moved.

“Why did you have to give them all the treasure!?” Nami screeched, at a volume that shook the ground. He almost thought that the volcano was erupting again.

Of course it was the money she was mad about.

Yan didn’t answer her and let her words wash over him as he instead thought back to the events leading up to this.

Luffy had been the one to answer that phone, and on the other end was the feared Big Mom. The two had argued back and forth on the phone for several minutes—the phone, which was really just a snail projecting her voice, the world never ceased to be weird—all while her henchman hovered nervously to the side, attempting to descelate to no avail. Given their increased panicking as the conversation went on and the crowd’s own concern, this Big Mom character was someone whose patience was not to be tested. 

Clearly Luffy hadn’t gotten the memo, or, more accurately, didn’t care; because he boldly admitted that he ate all her candy and closed off his negotiations by announcing that Fish-Man Island was his territory now. Obviously Big Mom took issue to the blatant poaching of her turf, and directed all her rage from Fish-Man Island to Luffy. All because he'd eaten her tribute.

And even then, they still forked over the treasure to her men, if only to postpone what was essentially a war. A war, he realized, he would have to fight in. Some things never changed.

Which brought them to now.

Nami continued to scold and berate them, clearly intent on drilling her point into their thick skulls. The old him would have been backing her up, feeding his grievances into her ear for her to make them known. Now, he let himself be completely ambivalent to the situation, and only wondered when she'd let them stand back up.

He had easily followed the command to hand over the treasure to Big Mom’s men, but he knew well enough that just because he followed orders, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t suffer the consequences. So he accepted the literal and verbal beating with grace, or as much grace he could have when there was dirt in his mouth. At least it didn’t hurt.

He wasn't annoyed, he told himself.

Meanwhile, everyone else was in several stages of excitement, if one could call it that. Robin and Shirahoshi were both giggling at the display, but only one of them really understood what was going on, while the remaining Straw Hat men seemed like they were about to have a collective heart attack. Jinbei just seemed resigned, but not surprised.

Off to the side, King Neptune and the minister were having a hushed conversation. He couldn’t hear them over Nami’s screeching, but it seemed a bit too frantic to just be Luffy-induced stress. It wasn’t like they were the ones feeling the heat. Well, it wasn’t like it mattered too much, he was sure they’d find out eventually.

It was only when Nami screamed herself hoarse did she stop, and the bloody and bruised Luffy led them off with a halfhearted war cry.

Yet, there was still one last thing he had to do.

Jinbei stepped out into the night.

His mind was reeling from his conversation with King Neptune, and combined with the fiasco from earlier, he felt like he needed some air. That, or another round of drinks. Considering he had to set out the next day for Whole Cake Island was an answer in and of itself. He needed all his sobriety to even begin thinking about how to handle the Big Mom situation.

So for now, some fresh air.

Jinbei breathed in deeply, letting it settle inside his lungs. The night was quiet, thick with salt and sleep, its heavy weight blanketing them all. He stood at the base of the palace stairs, just one step away from the road below. That last step seemed both insurmountable and inevitable. 

Jinbei did not know the next time he would return. It could be weeks. It could be years. By that time, it would surely be different than how he knew it. New people, new stories, memories that he would only experience secondhand. So he wanted to look at it one last time, and engrave it in his heart, just as it was. This place, this time, twined between past and future.

He stepped onto the road below him, his geta drumming against the stone. The silence snapped like a string, bringing him to the here and now. The first and final step.

He wandered the streets with no particular destination in mind, keeping his Observation Haki nestled deep within himself. He didn’t want this memory to be that of the pirate Jinbei, or Warlord Jinbei, or even former palace guard Jinbei, but just as himself.

Jinbei scanned his surroundings, slowly and with purpose. Dust and ash settled over the debris like a smudged drawing. Buildings were leveled, streets upturned and citizens displaced. Not a single light was on in the homes that remained, but they were not empty. Outstretched hands pulled their neighbors into their shelter, and when they awoke tomorrow they would be in a new era.

The cycle had been broken, just once, and the road ahead of them would be long and arduous. They would have to pave each and every step themselves, building it brick by brick. It wouldn’t always be perfect; their mistakes imprinted on drying clay, fingertips pressed too deep to smooth over. But every stone cemented would be a lesson on how to do better next time.

And there was, indeed, a road.

"Are you seeing this right now, my queen?"

There was a glimmer in the corner of his eye. A crow’s foot held onto it for all but a moment, and then carried it away in answer. Except, it lingered at the edge of his vision, twinkling with the ocean's waves. There, nestled between the trashcan and wall. 

His feet carried him over, and he knelt to pick it up: a small, blackened ball that was dwarfed between his fingers. As he ran his thumb over it, the material flaked off like ash, revealing the true object underneath: a pearl, milky and pure.

His senses suddenly pinged, years of survival instincts kicking in, and his eyes snapped over to the side. Just mere feet away from him, near the back of the alley, was a body. 

Absentmindedly pocketing the pearl, he looked over the body: tall and skinny, with baggy clothes that clung to its frame. It was almost unrecognizable, not because it had been disfigured in any way, but because the face was covered in a black substance that made it near impossible to see in the night. Using the corner of his sleeve, he carefully brushed off that material. It flaked off, just like that pearl.

He almost couldn't believe his eyes. 

That was Wet-Haired Caribou, dead on his back and mouth locked open in a scream. The contrast of his skin made it easy to see the mess inside his mouth. From the seam of his lips to the back of his throat, it was completely coated in that black substance. His fingers were rigid and curled, resting atop his chest as if he’d been holding onto something as he died. His eyes were wide open and clouded, tear streaks cutting through that dried paint.

He realized now, that it was ink.

Quickly, Jinbei got to his feet and stormed out of the alley. Looking back on it, with Luffy's little stunt taking precedence, no one had actually asked what happened to Caribou. All they knew was that Yan had gone after him, and then he never brought it back up. How amateur of Jinbei to overlook this.

There was no lost love with Caribou’s death. He'd heard that the man was deplorable, even by pirate standards. Caribou had even tried—and very nearly succeeded—to kidnap some of the Mermaid Cafe employees. And before Jinbei was a pirate he was a Fish-Man; if he had been the one to confront Caribou he would be dragging his beaten body to Impel Down himself.

But this, this felt like too much. Those widened eyes. That void in his mouth. The way he must have struggled against his assailant. It was not a swift death. Caribou must have died in agony, and Yan hadn't said a single word about it. 

It took him no time at all to reach where their ship was docked, and it was only then that he realized he didn’t really have a plan of attack for this. It was fully possible Yan was asleep. The amount of alcohol he had during the party was enough to knock out lesser men.

Jinbei could still turn around, and let sleeping dogs lie. It wasn't as if there was an actual issue here. Yan had killed a hostile pirate, one who probably attacked him first, Jinbei had a laundry list of other things to worry about right now.

His conversation with King Neptune came back to him, and he squared his shoulders as he stepped closer to the Sunny, eyes searching for any activity. Not a single light was on, and the only noise to be heard was the gentle lapping of water against the hull. And yet, standing on the deck was a figure so still he almost didn't notice it. 

The man in question’s head was turned away, closed eyes seeing something far off in the distance. That cloak was back on him, and through the ripped seams Jinbei could see the gray expanse underneath. The rippling moonlight casted an eerie glow against him, reflecting off his hair and cloak in a way that made him look paler than he actually was. The added encroaching stain made him look rather formless, like a wraith solemnly keeping vigil.

Jinbei didn't even blink. Afraid that if he did the ghost in front of him would disappear like a mirage. He didn’t know how he wanted to start this conversation, yet he found his lips forming words before he even realized it. "You're up rather late." 

Better to not immediately get into it.

"I'm waiting," Yan didn’t even sound surprised that he was here. Didn’t even turn to look at him.

"For what?"

"For you," he said, finally turning his head in Jinbei’s direction. Jinbei had faced Big Mom’s wrath and lived to tell the tale, yet he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of nervousness under Yan’s closed eyes. Had he foreseen his arrival? Did he—"Just kidding," he said, with a slight smile. One that Jinbei might even call teasing.

And up on the second level, a door opened.

Nico Robin stepped out, still dressed in that wrapped skirt of hers, but wearing a thicker jacket to keep out the chill. She took her time descending the stairs, like an empress assessing her subjects. "It seems our little rendezvous has been found out,’ she said with a wry smile, once she joined Yan by his side.

“Are you two going somewhere?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Robin hummed, as if considering what to say. “It's a secret,” she said with a wink, and Jinbei caught Yan quickly covering a smile with his collar. 

Somehow, he got the impression they were both messing with him.

Jinbei trusted Luffy, but he wasn’t sure if he trusted Robin and Yan yet. There was just something about the two of them sneaking off in the middle of the night that had every alarm bell going off in his head.

“Can I join you?” 

Yan was inscrutable as ever, his expression schooled back to indifference and not betraying a single iota of how he felt about it. Instead he turned to Robin, wordlessly deferring the decision to her. She crossed her arms, hands cupping her elbows, and shrugged, “I don't see a reason why not.”

They departed with little fanfare. This wasn’t at all how Jinbei expected this to go, and the whole thing left him feeling off kilter. He didn’t ask any further questions as Robin took point, even as she led them farther and farther away from the main city. The two didn’t bother filling the silence with conversation, and Jinbei didn’t try to start one.

Even though they moved at a leisurely pace, it didn’t take long for them to arrive at one of the many fish-buses stationed around the island. Robin boarded first, and Yan shot past her as she dropped some coins in the deposit box. He noticed how she only paid enough for the two of them, and Jinbei internally winced as he pulled out his wallet. He supposed he did invite himself, after all.

Robin was already seated next to Yan, and Jinbei sat down across from them. The bus briefly listed to the side from his weight, and then they were off. With nowhere else to go, there was no better chance for Jinbei to ask his questions.

“Did you kill Caribou?” He didn’t mean to blurt it out, but there was no delicate way of going about it.

Yan huffed. “Yes.”

“Why?” 

“The answer doesn’t really matter, but if you must know, it’s because it was the most reasonable course of action.”

Robin shot Yan a look. “Didn’t I ask you to apprehend him?”

The other’s response was to only shrug, “You also said ‘preferably’. Please give me clearer orders if you want to avoid any misinterpretation.”

“Noted,” she said curtly. It was clear Robin didn’t like that answer, because she crossed her arms and tilted her chin up. Jinbei could share the sentiment. It really wasn’t the fact that Yan had killed someone, but it was the fact that he was so blasé about it. And looking at him, the boy was so young. Far too young to be used to something like this. It made him wonder what exactly happened to make Yan into the person he was. A part of him was afraid to find out. 

He dropped the subject there. He’d seen the body and didn’t particularly want to know how it got in that state. Instead he focused on where they were going. As the bus moved, he slowly realized where exactly it was taking them: the Forest of the Sea. There were only two things there that would interest people such as Nico Robin and Vismok Yan. One was Queen Otohime’s grave.

The other was—

“I was reluctant to share this with you, in fear of adding another burden on your shoulders. But given the company of your future affiliations, I believe it is better to tell you now, than have you assume ignorance on the matter.” King Neptune said from his throne, and Jinbei seated in front of him. After leaving the Prison Tower they had come here, King Neptune keeping his guards on the fringes so no one could overhear them.

Jinbei bowed from his seiza. “Anything related to our nation is no burden to me.”

His king only sighed, exasperated and fond. “Only someone who has bore too much would say such a thing, but I will cut to the heart of the matter. It concerns Nico Robin and Yan.”

Neptune sighed again, this time weary and tired. “I trust them. I truly do. But the two of them know things that are better kept secret. If it was just one of them, I would be less concerned, but both of them...” he rubbed his forehead, seemingly at a loss for words.

“King Neptune, whatever is troubling you, please tell me.” He had never seen Neptune so aggrieved over something like this.

“If you are to join Straw Hat’s crew, I won’t ask for your allegiance any longer. Consider this a request from an old friend. I would ask that you merely keep an eye on them, especially Yan.”

“Do you believe the words of Hody and his men?”

“No, I am not about to condemn one of our land's saviors, but there are things he and Nico Robin shouldn't know.” This time, Neptune finally held his head in his hand, and didn’t remove it. “They told me that...there will come a time where my precious daughter will assume a role much larger than herself. Something that could spell destruction for the world as we know it. They learned this”—he gestured to the air—“from a single visit to the Poneglyph and the disconnected murmurings from the Neptunians. Given more time, I can only imagine what they’re capable of.”

He sounded like he was in disbelief, his tone almost frantic. But then he sighed again and slumped in his throne. “I suspect Yan will know when that time is, and when it does I ask that you protect her.”

“You needn't ask me something like that. I would protect her regardless of my allegiance,” but even as he said it felt like a stone being dropped in his stomach. It felt foreboding, and it was, but all they could do was prepare for it.

“I know this, but alas, I feel like you should be aware of the dangers ahead. Let us discuss your next steps—”

“You’re going to the Poneglyph, aren't you?”

Robin actually pouted. “It’s no fun if you already know.”

Jinbei was not going to give away that he actually hadn’t known until about an hour ago. He was still grappling with the fact that such an artifact had been right under his nose. “What could you possibly gain from visiting it?”

“I've learned everything I could from it. It's Yan who wants to see it again.”

Again. Just like King Neptune said. In fact, that’s probably where they were when they emerged from the woods earlier that day. 

Jinbei turned to him, and there was a pause before the other dryly added, “There’s something I must confirm.” and he abruptly stood up, the bus coming to a stop a moment later.

As they departed, Yan didn’t hesitate to take point and lead them into the Forest of the Sea. They had only the scant moonlight to guide them, and their already sedate pace slowed to a crawl. Yan seemed to be struggling with the terrain. He put each foot down slowly, and didn’t start the next until it was firmly planted down. As if he expected the ground to give out beneath him. Even then, he nearly stumbled over roots and dips in the ground.

It was at odds with the way he had moved during their battle that afternoon. He hadn’t exactly been fast, but he seemed to know exactly where he needed to move. “Before you...” Jinbei struggled for the right words, “lost your power, how far could you sense?”

“You have a lot of questions,” he huffed again, and Jinbei was beginning to realize it meant he was annoyed. “Everything the prescripts touched.”

“He means to say the entire island,” Robin clarified, sounding amused.

By the seas, she could already translate for him.

Jinbei could understand the exhaustion Neptune had felt earlier, if his conversation had gone anything like this.

He suddenly felt very, very lucky that he was their ally, because the pair in front of him was shaping up to be a terrifying combination. The world was lucky that it was Luffy who found the both of them, because anyone else would use their combined prowess for nothing short of world domination. They could probably ruin a country in an afternoon, if they were feeling particularly motivated about it.

As Jinbei was contemplating that, Robin moved closer to Yan’s side. Initially she had started a few feet behind him, letting him lead the way. But now, she was nearly pressed against his side, their arms brushing with every step. With his back to Jinbei, it was impossible to tell whether he minded the proximity or not. She extended her hand to her companion, palm down, as if she was asking to be escorted. “Yan, would you give me your arm, I’m having trouble seeing at this time of night.”

“Perhaps you should have brought a lantern then,” he said, but carefully wound his arm with hers.

Robin only chuckled. “My mistake.”

Jinbei watched their backs: Robin on the left, and Yan on the right. He watched how Yan had to stand a little straighter in order to guide Robin properly. How she let him, even though she was setting the pace. How their bodies turned towards the other’s.

He realized, then, why he hadn’t been able to confront Yan at the party.

His back had looked just like his own.

It was a long time ago, back when he was still just a royal guard, when the concept of humans and Fish-Man seeing eye to eye would only make him scoff. Him, get along with humans? Forget it. Queen Otohime and Fisher Tiger’s beliefs were something he only tolerated. He never heeded their words, never took them to heart like he should have. It took losing both of them for Jinbei to finally get it.  

Maybe if he had seen it sooner Arlong wouldn’t have gone down the path he did. Maybe Nami wouldn’t have had to suffer at his hands. Maybe so many people wouldn’t have to hurt each other. Maybe maybe maybe.

But that wasn’t the world they lived in. They’d all made their choices, and all they could do now was live with them.

Robin pushed back a branch, and they finally entered the clearing where the Poneglyph lay. It was almost completely bare, a perfect circle fenced off by the treeline, with only the Poneglyph itself and a flat rock across from it filling the space. Maybe it was just the trees blocking any outside noise, but the air was unnaturally still.

"How do you feel?" Robin asked. Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom.

"It's quiet," Yan answered, as if that was one. Given her nod, it really was, one that neither of them felt the need to explain to Jinbei, apparently. 

He regretted choosing not to drink.

Yan dropped her hand and walked farther into the clearing, and Jinbei noticed how her eyes never left him. It was an intense look, where her eyes flicked from spot to spot, searching for something. It put him on edge. What on earth could she be looking for?

Yan continued to walk across the clearing, until he was right in front of the Poneglyph. He ran a hand over the etchings, and as he did its surface reflected a dull blue glow. “It is already coming back.”

He rested his forehead against the metal. “The will of the island is in its infancy. And just like a baby, its cries are unintelligible. It will need to be taught the words it speaks.” There was something almost religious about the way he spoke, but Jinbei felt there was no reverence behind the words.

“What does that mean?”

“It means...if you wish to rewrite the trajectory of this island, these people’s will, then you must start now. If you wish for peace with humans then you must make every effort to do so. You have been given an opportunity few ever get. Do not squander it.”

It was that detached tone of his that had Jinbei’s blood boiling. Like he was a child that had to be taught a lesson. Did he think they were just going to sit on their laurels now that Hody was defeated? “We have not been given anything! Queen Otohime preached every day until she could meet the Celestial Dragons just to earn our rights! Fisher Tiger forbade us from killing humans so that more blood wouldn’t be spilled, even though he himself hated them! It was only through the efforts of the people before us that we even have the chance we do now!”

“But they still died.” He turned over his shoulder, and the glow from his chest accentuated the shadows under his eyes.

It hurt, like someone peeling open a scab, but Jinbei didn’t allow himself to falter. “I'm sure they wanted to see the fruits of their labors, but they knew their goals would take longer than a lifetime to achieve. Their actions, their legacy, were the stepping stones to get us here today. I will not have you dismiss them as though they handed it to us on a silver platter. They left us their dreams, and it is up to us to make them reality!”

“Carrying on someone else’s dream? Would you call that your own will?” and Jinbei would say Yan’s voice sounded bitter.

“They may have started it, but I am the one choosing to carry on their legacy! Not just me, but everyone on Fish-Man Island. Even if the Voice of All Things didn’t say as such, I would still make this choice!” He swept his arm out to the side for emphasis.

“I see. I hope you can make it come true,” he dropped his hand from the Poneglyph and stepped away. “Thank you for indulging my questions. I’m sorry if I stepped over a line.”

Jinbei deflated. Had anything he said made it through to him? It sounded more like Yan was just tired of arguing. Regardless, he knew when not to push. “I apologize too, I let my feelings get the best of me.” It felt lacking, like there was too much left unsaid.

Robin clapped her hands together, startling him, “Well I’m glad we’re all getting along again,” she said breezily, chiming in for the first time in a while, “shall we make our way back, then?”

Yan nodded and made his way back over to her. Jinbei watched how he held out his hand, how hers easily slipped back into his. They turned together, taking a step away from him.

Jinbei watched their backs.

Was this how he wanted things to be? Was this the conclusion he wanted in their relationship? An argument shelved with unstable footing on where they stood? Just like earlier, when they were talking about Caribou, Yan was never expecting to be given the chance anyways.

Trust began with a single step. 

Then two, three.

Four, five, six.

The two only had enough time to turn their heads before them before he scooped them up in his arms, supporting each in the crooks of his arms.

“What’s this about, dear Jinbei?” Robin asked, terribly amused. She easily adjusted herself into a more comfortable position.

“It’s dark, remember? Leave the way back to me. Whale sharks can see in the dark!”  He laughed, jostling the two in his hold. It forced Yan to actually grab onto his shoulder for support, and the absolutely bothered look on his face made Jinbei laugh even more.

“Is this really necessary?” he asked, somehow managing to keep his voice completely neutral.

“Not at all!”

“Then why?”

“The answer doesn’t really matter,” he said, parroting the boy’s words from earlier, “but if you must know, it was just because I wanted to.”

Yan opened his mouth, and then closed it. With no further complaints, he started walking back, and just when Jinbei thought the boy wasn’t going to speak at all, he said, “I’ve never been to a forest before today.” 

It was an olive branch; the thanks he didn’t say.

“Is that so?” Robin asked, a gentle nudge.

The boy nodded, a short, jerky movement. “There were no trees, just concrete buildings that reached higher than you could see. Even if you stood on top of the tallest building the stars were obscured by the smog. So this feeling is not unfamiliar.”

What feeling? JInbei looked up, peering through the gaps in the foliage. There were no stars this far down, but the water certainly shimmered like them. There were hundreds of miles between them and the surface, and hundreds more between them and the sky. For years they had looked towards it, hoping to see the sun. An impossible dream, always just out of reach. 

“Maybe so, but it’s not so bad when others are with you,” Listen to him. He must be getting on in his old age. “Besides, with Luffy as your captain you’ll have to watch him to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

The dream was achievable. It just took a rubbery boy in a straw hat to remind them of it. 

Robin giggled. “I’d like to see someone try,” and Jinbei laughed again.

They may not be overly concerned about Yan's origins, but maybe that was what the boy needed: a group of people who didn't care about his past and all that it carried. He was still uneasy around Yan, but nothing would change if Jinbei held onto that. He didn’t need to know everything about him just yet. 

After all, he had all the time in the world.

Jinbei had carried them all the way back to the ship, even after getting off the bus when Yan hadn’t been fast enough to evade him a second time. At least Robin had a good time, but he just felt humiliated. What was with Jinbei’s attitude? He could tell he was wary of him, but then he made a U-turn and brushed it off.

Yan didn’t get him. He didn’t get any of them, really. They were all so...

He didn’t get it.

He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep with it on his mind, so he instead sat himself down on the stairs right across from the men’s quarters, at least so he wouldn’t toss and turn in the bunk hastily assigned to him. He planned to stay out there until he was tired enough, and then find somewhere else to crash. But as he stayed out there, he realized something.

Yan couldn't sleep.

It was a slow realization, one that cemented itself as the night wore on and he felt the same as ever. He preferred this anyway. He'd been plagued with nightmares ever since he was a child. His sleep had always been fitful, and he never managed more than a mere few hours a night, always startled awake from some vivid memory.

He thought back to his room, his actual room, the one he’d lived in his entire life. Even with his eyes closed, he could still remember exactly where everything was: the crammed half-bookshelf, the TV and old game console on top that he hadn’t touched in years, the worn lion plush guarding the door, the bed he always made sure to make even while the desk next to it was a disaster zone. Its surface was littered with materials used for his forged prescripts. He hadn’t bothered to hide anything, and his landlady was going to have a time when she eventually saw it.

She was a no-nonsense woman, the exact opposite of his mom in many ways. Where his mom was all bones and sunken skin, she was heavy-set and full. Where his mom had been...hands-off, his landlady was always on his case for one reason or another. The second he was old enough to start working she had slipped flyers in his mailbox and made snide comments that so-and-so was hiring and you know your parents’ savings aren’t gonna cover the bills forever, right?

He didn't miss her at all. She'd always been trying to find a way to get rid of him after his mom died. Given that he'd probably missed rent at this point, she had one now. At least she could make up the losses when she pawned his stuff.

Whatever. That wasn't his problem anymore. 

So now he sat on the stairs outside, cloak in place, head turned as if he was gazing out to sea. He realized, belatedly, that he was looking in the direction of the Poneglyph. Like a compass, he was pointed towards his true north. It was almost a compulsion at this point.

His second visit earlier hadn't done much to quell his worries. He'd been able to hear the indistinguishable murmurs of the people, but like he told the others, it was still too early to tell anything. What had he been expecting anyways? It had disappeared for less than a moment, some fraction of time he couldn’t perceive. He already knew the Will of the City was ubiquitous, so why did he insist on asking questions he already knew the answers to?

He buried his head in his knees, arms crossed in front of his head.

Did anything he said to Jinbei mattered? He'd been trying to give him advice, so that they at least knew what they were getting into, but it just resulted in the same ending as always.

“I only have the patience to acknowledge the Prescripts of the Index, not the personal ramblings of a mere Messenger.”

Phantom pain lanced throughout his head, suddenly very aware of how his tongue sat in his mouth. The only solace of that incident was that he’d been right in the end. That, and rotten satisfaction he'd felt when he saw Kalo's name on that invitation.

A soft click sounded from across from him, followed by a long yawn as someone stepped out of the men’s quarters. He choked on the inhale when he saw Yan, and doubled over in a coughing fit. Yan waited patiently until he could breathe normally again. 

“What are you still doing up?” Sanji asked, voice still a little rough from sleep.

A terrible idea struck Yan, and he didn’t answer. Sanji crouched in front of him. “There’s no way you're actually asleep.” Again, he didn’t answer, just kept his head buried in his knees.

Silence stretched between them.

Slowly, Sanji reached out his hand, bridging the distance between them until it hovered just over Yan’s head. It lingered like a bough in the wind, its naked branches shivering and reaching. He could feel its presence, and kept perfectly still. Then Sanji sighed, curled his fist, and knocked Yan on the crown of his head. Hard, if the hollow knock was anything to go by.

Yan sat up straight, his hands reflexively grabbing at the spot. “What was that for?” He only just managed not to snap at him. 

Sanji snorted a laugh. “Did you really think I’d fall for that?” There was a lazy grin in his voice, and he bumped the back of his knuckle against Yan’s forehead for good measure. “Why are you up so late anyways? Or I guess it’s morning. Whatever.”

Yan dropped his hands back to his lap. “I was keeping watch.” He tilted his head, as if it were obvious.

“Wha-the whole night? No one would have attacked us anyways!” Sanji sounded insulted at the very idea of it.

Yan shrugged, “You never know.”

Sanji dragged a hand down his face. “It’s too early for this,” he pushed himself up and started up the rest of the stairs, “come on.”

He didn't ask where they were going, and just followed behind. They entered the room at the top of the landing and Sanji flicked on all the lights. Yan stood by the entrance as darkened shapes filled his eyelids. Next to him was a ladder that could only lead to the observation deck above, while directly in front of him was a long couch perfectly in line with a dining table, large enough to fit everyone, followed by an island bar that separated the dining area from the open kitchen. 

Sanji was already in the kitchen, and it was a very professional one. Even Yan could tell all the equipment was top of the line. Sanji navigated the space like a second home, pulling whatever he needed out of the various cabinets in a way that one wouldn’t believe he was gone for two years.

Meanwhile, Yan mapped out the room in his mind, committing the layout to memory. Tomorrow night, when everyone was asleep, he was going to memorize all the other rooms. Yan stepped farther inside, and didn’t flinch when he passed through the bodies at his feet.

There was a sudden beeping sound of Sanji entering a passcode for the fridge and—pause, the fridge had a passcode? Why did the fridge need a passcode?

A sudden flashback came to him, where at the party there had been a literal mountain of licked-clean plates surrounding Luffy. Nevermind, the passcode was completely reasonable and justified.

“Sit down, I’m gonna get started on breakfast.” Sanji ordered, and he had no objections with that. Yan sat down at the table, mainly because he didn’t trust his balance on the long bar in front of the island. Something to practice when no one was watching.

Sanji didn’t say anything else as he started pulling an absurd amount of ingredients out of the pantry (the pantry, which looked more like an industrial safe than a storage closet, just how bad was Luffy?), and Yan didn’t know if he should say anything.

“Do you like to cook?” Yan asked, and inwardly cringed. Clearly Sanji did if he was getting up at God-knows-when to cook breakfast.

Sanji scoffed. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

Why did he even bother. “No. Sorry for asking, I guess.” and the topic of conversation died.

“Do you?” Sanji eventually asked.

Why did it take you five minutes to say two words? “I can follow a recipe.” Obviously. But outside of that he really didn’t care for cooking. It was a waste of time when he could just buy pre-made stuff. Though, if he was in the mood for actual food, he preferred to cook it himself. Eating food made by others always made him uneasy. 

Silence again, only filled by the clatter of Sanji mixing ingredients and the sizzling of pans.

This was so awkward.

He was debating if he should just leave when he heard a muffled clink of something being sat down in front of him. Yan lifted his head, and right in the middle of the table was a tray with a matching pitcher and sugar bowl on it.

Along with two cups of coffee.

Yan was processing what that meant when Sanji sat down across from him. He threw one arm over the back of the chair in a way that was meant to come across as casual. An unlit cigarette dangled idly between his fingers. It seemed he was still deciding if he wanted to smoke or not.

“What? You never have coffee before?” Sanji mocked lightly when Yan didn’t make a move for either of the cups, picking up one for himself. 

Yan scowled at him briefly, and then he picked up the remaining cup with both hands, metal on ceramic clinking against each other. He brought it close to his chest, and could imagine the steam wafting from it. It smelled heavenly. And how interesting that he had retained his sense of smell. It wasn't like he needed it.

"Did you put anything in it?" Yan asked.

"It's just black, I didn’t know how you take it,” Sanji answered, adding a dash of creamer to his.

Yan took a tentative sip. "I was referring to poison," he said mildly, only half joking.

He could sense Sanji bristling across from him, and Yan braced himself for an argument at, what, five in the morning? But Sanji wasn’t quite looking at him, and his knee bounced slightly. “Well,” he started, scratching his cheek, “how is it?”

Yan considered lying, but decided against it. It wouldn’t be one he could keep up for long. Eventually he would slip up, or someone would notice. Better to get it out of the way now. “I can’t taste anything.” 

The bouncing stopped abruptly. “Of course you can’t,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.

“It’s not your fault.”  And where did he get that idea?

Silence.

Someone please wake up and save them both from this nightmare.

Sanji cleared his throat. "I realize now, that I never actually introduced myself."

"It's okay," Yan said, and Sanji's eyes widened slightly before he continued, "You were busy resolutely ignoring me, and yelling at me, and fighting me. Your schedule was pretty packed."

"You..." Sanji scrubbed a hand down his face, "I said I was sorry, okay!"

"And now you're arguing with me again, and still haven't introduced yourself.”

"My name is Sanji. Just Sanji," he finally said, "I'm the cook of the Straw Hat pirates, and that's all I ever want to be." The statement was loaded with meaning that Yan didn’t have the context for.

Best to settle on a non-answer then. “Of course, I understand,” and Sanji’s shoulder relaxed slightly.

The two sipped their coffee in relative silence then, only interrupted when Sanji went back to the kitchen to continue cooking. There was already a mountain of bacon and pancakes.

“You know, you aren't at all what I was expecting,” the cook said, when he eventually sat back down.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don't know, someone taller, or—” he swallowed, and then said with forced cheer, “definitely not some eighteen-year-old.”

First he was mistaken for a woman, now he was getting mistaken for a teenager? 

“I'm twenty-five.”

Sanji slammed his cup down. “No way.”

Did he need to glue his ID on his forehead or something? “And how old are you?” 

Sanji hesitated. “...Twenty-one.”

“You should stop smoking,” he said, smiling innocently.

Sanji slammed his hands on the table. “What the hell does that mean!?”

“Nothing. I'm just looking out for your health is all.” He held up his hands in surrender, playing it up. He'd take this false argument over the stilted awkwardness from earlier.

The other stood up abruptly. “You know what, no, get up and help me set the table.”

“Aren't I older? Shouldn't you show me some more respect?”

“I'll do that the day you grow taller than me.”

Considering Yan had been the same height since he was fourteen, it was a low blow. 

But speaking of low blows...

Sanji walked over to his side of the table, no doubt to haul him out of his chair since he still hadn't moved, and Yan surreptitiously stuck out his leg right as he passed by. He fell face first onto the ground with a satisfying bang, and with that same smile still plastered on his face, Yan leaned over and said, “You should watch where you're going. But would you look at that, I'm talle—”

Sanji grabbed his ankle and pulled him down with him.

Chapter Text

Morning came, as it always did.

The sun rose over the horizon, casting a stripe of light into the room. It continued to fill the space between the table set and the food prepared. One by one, the others rose from their slumber and made their way to the dining room in various states of enthusiasm. 

Luffy was the first, slamming open the door with a yell of “Food!” followed by an equally excited Franky. Robin, Nami, and Brook came next, the skeleton already making a pass at them. Usopp and Chopper dragged themselves in after them, still despondent from the previous night, followed by a silent, watchful Zoro.

They all took their seats, leaving gaps that made it awkward for someone to squeeze between them later. Yan ultimately ended up next to Chopper; a corner seat on the opposite side of where he’d been earlier. Just when he’d gotten used to the old spot.

The large table seemed cramped now. Elbows bumped. Plates were passed overhead. At least three people’s plates were stolen from. Sanji and Zoro got into another argument. Brook composed a melody over it. It was a loud affair.

And then the others started showing up.

Jinbei. King Neptune. Shirahoshi. The three princes. Hachi, Camie, and Pappagu. The employees from the Mermaid Cafe. Citizens Yan hadn’t even met. Hadn’t they been over this last night? It seemed everyone had something new to say and just when Yan thought they were done someone else piped up. He could only follow the others when they disembarked to say their own goodbyes.

King Neptune and the Minister whispered to each other the whole time, and this time Yan stood close enough to catch bits and pieces of it.

“...A decade ago...fail to detonate?”

“...Not a guarantee...Big Mom...open it...”

Well, that was interesting. Might there be a weapon or something amongst the treasure they handed over? That would solve a lot of their problems. Or create a lot more. If only someone thought to mention this piece of critical information. Yan could almost believe they were being set up.

On their hands and knees, Chopper and Usopp wailed, once again reminded that leaving this island meant being that much closer to Big Mom. Yan leaned over them, and waited till they both looked up at him to speak. “Don't worry, it can't get any worse than this.” Their contenances brightened in hope before he swiftly shot it down. “It's not like we sent them a bomb or anything.”

Neptune went silent. Yan's lips twitched, unseen under his collar.

Now, what amongst the treasure could contain such a threat? The Minister mentioned opening something, so that ruled out most of the baubles and trinkets, meaning it was most likely stored in one of the many ornate chests and boxes. Yan had been careful in his handling of them the night prior, and it was a good thing as well, given just how close he’d apparently been to losing his life. Yet, like always, he narrowly avoided death.

Before Yan could pursue that train of thought any more, Usopp sprang to his feet and wrapped his arms around him from the side. “Don't even joke about that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?”

“You're right, that'd be a terrible thing to joke about.” Usopp’s nose poked into his cheek.

Chopper followed his friend’s example, and from the other side he clung to Yan’s legs. “We’re all gonna die!”

Can you both just let go already? “Look, they’re talking about Log Poses over there. Something about danger levels.” Yan meant to point in Nami’s direction, but could only tilt his head in her direction with his arms pinned to his sides. He was interested in how they worked—something like a special compass—but he’d use it as a distraction for now.

“What!? We have to destroy that thing! We can't let Luffy know about it!” Usopp shouted, letting Luffy know about it, and the two sprinted over. Taking the opening, he turned to beat a hasty retreat back onto the ship. 

“Yan.”

He paused just at the foot of the ramp, and turned over his shoulder. “Jinbei,” he answered, turning around completely. “Do you need something?” 

The Fish-Man only stood in front of him, something solemn in his posture. A moment passed, and then he took a step towards Yan, slowly reaching out his hand. Like he was some skittish animal. He stilled, bracing himself in case Jinbei tried to pick him up again. But he only placed that hand on his shoulder. It was large, enough so that his fingers trailed down to his upper arm.

“The next time we meet, tell me all about your adventures.”

Why him? Yan had nothing to say and nothing to experience. The path in front of him was not an adventure, but only the direction he must go. “Sure thing.”

Jinbei squeezed his shoulder and stepped away, joining the others in where Luffy and Nami were arguing about who got to chart the course; the former wanting to go in the direction of the vibrating needle on the Log Pose, and the latter vehemently against it. Yan didn’t care either way, and made his way onto the ship. 

He waited under the shade of the tree planted on the deck, foregoing sitting on the attached swing, awaiting their answer. But before a consensus could be reached, Franky gave the go ahead that they were ready to set out, prompting one last round of farewells. Then they were on the water, the sounds of cheers growing more and more distant. Yan counted down the seconds.

Three...two...one...

“Luffy!” Princess Shirahoshi cried, grabbing onto the side of the ship, tipping the whole thing towards her. This was why Yan didn’t take the swing. “If we should ever meet again”—she huffed, out of breath from catching up to them—“I will no longer be the crybaby you know now. So I hope you will escort me on another enjoyable stroll...” she trailed off, something shy and expectant in her voice.

“A stroll?” he asked, happy-go-lucky as ever, “To your mom’s grave again?”

“Someplace further next time, perhaps the surface!” She pulled the ship closer to herself, wet hands dripping onto the grass. That couldn’t be good for it. “Or to a real forest!”

“Oh, right...you’ve never been out of the water you're on!” Luffy placed his hands on his hips, and laughed, “Next time I see you, we’ll take a trip!”

With every word, Shirahoshi’s composure crumbled, and by the end of his sentence she was crying again. One hand reached up to wipe away her tears, and the other out towards Luffy, pinky extended in a familiar gesture.

Stop. 

“You promise?”

Stop it. 

Her pinky was easily larger than Luffy’s torso, and he stretched his rubber finger around hers to make up for it. “You got it! It’s a promise!”

“Let’s make a promise!”

“Where’s our responsibility in all of this, Luffy?” Nami asked, playfully affronted, already moving to his side.

“Listen, it’s us five against the world.”

“Precisely,” Brook also had something to say, “promises are to be kept to the death, remember?”

“So we have to get through this together, okay?”

One by one, the other pirates joined in, placing their pinkies atop hers, only Zoro and Franky opting out. Each of them added their own assurances, all of them just having to add onto the charade. Yan’s fingers curled into the fabric of his pants.

Phosphenes bloomed across the canvas of his eyelids, their features blurring together like a watercolor painting, yellows and blues spilling over their faces. Eight figures became five, standing at the end of summer. Five pinkies looped together in a haphazard crochet. 

“I like the sound of that.”

Robin laughed, just like his friend had back then. “Well, with this many promises—”

“No matter what happens, we’ll have each other.” 

“—I’m sure it will be fulfilled!” Brook finished.

Summer yellow dried to autumn orange, then was blanketed in winter white. He leaned over the canvas, brush poised for a new story. There was a picture being painted, something beautiful and soft. Maybe. Potentially. If it was allowed to be. He made the first stroke towards their future. His brush touched the canvas—

And then a waterfall of red was poured all over it. Red covered everything: his hands, his hair, his life’s work.

Red had no place in spring.

Hidden by a white sheet, the loom creaked into motion. A single action, sparking along gray threads for only a moment, just long enough for a single message to be weaved, spoken like a plea in the back of his mind.

To Shirahoshi...Reach out to the future.

“It’s a promise.”

“Look at that island! There’s a volcano erupting!”

“You have to listen to me, Luffy!” Nami pleaded, clutching her raincoat closed as rain pelted them all. “We have three needles, and none of them are pointing to that island! This is weird and dangerous, even for the New World!”

“Who cares? We’re getting off there!” Luffy laughed, drenched and pointing to the horizon. “We can see it already, so we don’t need any needles!”

“We can’t! There’s no way we can get any closer!”

Nami made a compelling argument: the rain was coming down hard, the waves were threatening to capsize them, and, oh, the sea was literally on fire.

It hadn't even been an hour. 

“Luffy, I got some real bad news for ya. You know those deep-sea fish you caught?” Sanji cut in, utterly nonchalant about the whole matter. “Well, the parts I hadn’t cut up yet are all burned to a crisp.”

Right, the fish. The very thing that had set off this chain of events.

It had started out innocently enough. Their initial ascent had been largely uneventful, quiet even, until Luffy decided he wanted to do some underwater fishing. Honestly, Luffy having any sort of idea should have been Yan’s first sign that things were about to go very, very wrong.

Luffy caught a fish. And then his fish caught a larger fish. And then that fish caught an even larger fish, which by that point was at least three times the size of Sunny. Of course, instead of cutting the fishing line, Zoro had the bright idea to stab it dead, turning it into a slimy, scaly anchor.  

And wouldn't you know it, said anchor had started to sink into something Robin called a White Ström, a deadly underwater whirlpool that could carry a ship an unfathomable distance away, with the ship turning up entirely empty, because of course. And since no one else wanted to cut the fish loose they were dragged along with it, leaving them all to hold on for dear life as it carried them far, far away.

Usually, the flow of the City was not so literal.

They rode the current for only a few minutes, and would have met the fate Robin had so cheerfully described if not for the ship colliding with a giant whale. The only reason they didn’t smash to smithereens was due to the fresh layer of coating on the ship and the whale’s own thick blubber acting as some sort of landing pad.

Yan thought they’d be done then, but then Brook decided to have some sort of reaction to seeing the whale and its pod, and they all started going on about some whale named Laboon. No one thought to explain to Yan, and he didn’t ask. Not that he had the chance to. With the calm, Nami started calling orders to set the sails to follow the whales’ current, all while Brook pulled out a violin and started singing some sort of sea shanty.

It was catchy.

The whales must have thought so too, because with Luffy’s eerie sense to understand animals, the whale conveyed it would give them a lift and settled their ship atop its head, not unlike how Surume had carried them just yesterday. It certainly saved them time and effort, especially since they still had that giant fish, and they rode atop the whal, breaching the surface right into a raging storm and an ocean of fire.

“Hey, Yan, come help me with this,” Sanji said, bringing him back to the present. He  jutted a thumb over his shoulder at a large, cuboid section of cut fish; as tall as Franky and twice as wide. That amount of meat could feed his entire apartment complex for  weeks. 

It also looked like it’d be a pain to cut. “Wouldn’t Zoro be a better option?”

“Huh?” the man in question turned over his shoulder, pausing from where he was tying a knot, “the shitty cook needs my help with something?”

“As if, mosshead! You’ll get your spores all over it!”

“Say that again, twirly brows!”

“Gladly! You’ll get your disgusting, smelly, germs—”

“Did you need my help or not,” Yan intoned, disregarding the fact he’d set them on that tangent in the first place. Lesson learned. He bent down to pick it up from the bottom.

“Wait-hold on! Let me get the other side!” Sanji exclaimed, scrambling. The two carried it up the stairs and to the kitchen, placing it down on a tarp Sanji must have put there earlier.

“Okay, now what?” Yan asked.

“I’m gonna cut it down, you pack up the pieces I cut,” he pointed to a pile of sealable bags on the counter. This was not a two-man job, but Yan did as he was told. He washed his hands first, then went to pull open one of the bags—

“Stop! Stop!”

“What?” Yan dropped the bag and did not scowl at him, though it was a near thing. He hadn’t even done anything yet. He went over the order in his head, and knew he hadn’t messed anything up yet.

Sanji pointed at him. “At least put up your hair!” 

This time he did scowl. “It is up.”

“No, I mean-ugh,” and Sanji marched over, washed his hands, dried, then pulled Yan’s hair out of its ponytail. Memories of Gloria doing the same had him freezing instinctively, and Sanji twisted his hair up. “There, now your hair won’t get into anything.”

A bun sat atop his head, textbook and secure. He’d done it all with such swift efficiency that Yan didn’t even have time to object. “...Anything else?” 

“Nope, we’re ready now,” Sanji said, as if he hadn’t been the one to delay them. He got to work, sawing and dividing the fish meat into perfectly portioned cuts. He made it seem so easy, chatting amiably all the while, making the saw seem like a knife through butter.

It hadn’t been easy for Yan. The knife he used had been duller than he thought, made all the more difficult when the meat struggled. It was almost soundless when Sanji did it, but Yan’s work had been met with the sound of crunching bone and garbled screams.

He packed the cuts into bags, squeezing the air out and sealing them shut. He hummed and nodded when appropriate but didn’t really listen to what Sanji was saying. The monotonous work caused his thoughts to drift, a calm washing settling over him. Sanji’s voice faded into white noise, and his head was completely empty as he listened. True to Luffy's word, there was an island in the distance, close enough that Yan could feel its pull. 

Then, like a synapse firing off, a signal was sent towards them.  

In a corner, hidden by metal and snow, a man slumped against a wall. The face covering of a hazmat suit laid next to him, revealing a strained and anxious face. He openly wept, each hitching inhale sending shocks of pain throughout his body. Slowly, he dialed the emergency number he was never supposed to use. The numbers smeared with each drag of the rotary dial. 

“Pwoh hoh hoh!”

The sound came from the end table next to the couch, loud enough that the others came in to check it out. “What’s the deal? The Transponder Snail’s crying!” Luffy exclaimed, leaning over the suddenly crying snail. “What’s wrong, buddy? You got a tummy ache?”

The man leaned back against the wall, tilting his chin back as he held the receiver close to his chest, his other hand swallowed deep in the red of his abdomen. His breaths still held warmth, coming out in small, shallow puffs. Loud in his ears. He couldn’t even hear the fighting around him. Why was this happening? They had just been doing their jobs when this demon descended on them!

“Pwoh hoh hoh!”

“That’s an emergency alert, dummy! Someone’s put out an S.O.S!” Sanji said, absentmindedly putting some of the bags in the freezer.

The man squeezed his eyes shut. “Come on, Boss...someone...anyone, answer!” His vision darkened around the edges, tunneling around the lifeline clutched in his grip. Smaller than a heart. Ringing just the same.

Calling. 

Luffy reached towards the phone. “So if I pick up the call, we can reach them?”

Calling. 

“Stop, Luffy! The majority of emergency alerts can’t be trusted! It’s likely to be a trap set by the Marines!” Robin called out, “If you pick it up and they trace the signal, they’ll know where we are!”

Calling.

“Hello?” An answer. A reedy voice that sounded unfamiliar, but surely the Boss was just concerned.

The man took a breath, summoning the last of his strength. “Help me!” Dark spots swam in his vision. His teeth chattered. “It’s so cold...is that you...Boss?” The voice on the other end said something else. A question, urgent and demanding. Even in this state, he knew how to make a report. “All my people...cut down, one after the other...” he inhaled sharply, “We’re being killed by a samurai!”

A snow drift billowed in front of him, revealing a lone figure. White foreign robes and foxfire burned on his blade. He held eye contact with his maker. “Someone, help...we’re being trapped here on”—the blazing sword was raised high—“Punk Hazard!”

The blade swung down.

Yan sucked in a breath, and a weight settled on his shoulder, jostling him. He furrowed his brows at the feeling of suddenly feeling present again. Everyone else was standing in the dining area, loosely surrounding the transponder snail. When had he and Sanji finished their work?

“Hey. You’re zoning out again,” Zoro said.

“Sorry.” He resisted the urge to place a hand over where he—the man—had been cut down. Instead, he washed his hands, in case he hadn’t already done so.

His hand fell off his shoulder as he moved away. “Just don't walk into traffic or anything,” Zoro looked back over the group. “But a samurai, huh. Sounds familiar, Brook.” 

“Indeed. Samurai is the title of swordsmen from the land of Wano,” Brook explained, “Wano is a nation with closed borders; no outsiders are allowed in. They aren’t even affiliated with the World Government. And these samurai are so powerful that even the Marines do not dare to breach their territory.”

Yan was familiar with the term samurai, but he had never heard of a place called Wano. How far into the Great Lake were they?

“But he didn’t say nothin’ about Wano. He said ‘Punk Hazard!’” Franky added, “Is it that fiery island over there?”

“If he was using a mini snail, the only island within range...” Robin trailed off, “...would have to be that one.” She looked out the window, where in the distance lightning struck down over the island.

“That settles it!” Luffy pumped a fist into the air, “We’re goin’ to rescue that dude!”

“He’s already dead,” Yan said, quiet and damning.

Luffy’s head swiveled to look at him. “You don’t know th—”

“I do,” Yan didn’t like to interrupt, but there was no point in giving Luffy false hope. His powers had gradually returned as they got farther from Fish-Man Island, steadily returning to a baseline of sorts. It wasn't at the potential as if he were on an island, but he also wasn't completely bereft of it either. “I felt it. His will was my will and—”

“We get it, just cut to the chase already,” Now Zoro was interrupting him, which Yan supposed was his karma.

He exhaled through his nose. “In short, I experienced his dying moments and can confirm his death. There’s no one there to save, Captain.” 

Luffy frowned at him. “Are there other people there?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then let’s go! We have an island to explore!”

“Someone, help...we’re trapped here on...Punk Hazard!”

The line cut out, the black wiretapping snail falling asleep as abruptly as the man’s end.

Tashigi, one of two Captains of the G-5 Unit, turned to her superior. “Smoker, was that...?”

White Chase Smoker frowned down at the triple log pose in his hand. “Crap, how the hell did they get here?” he inhaled, and the nicotine from his dual cigars ebbed his frustration. “Well, we had a one-in-three chance. Under normal circumstances, that is.”

As he mused to himself, his subordinates continued to antagonize the pirates they’d apprehended from Fish-Man Island. G-5 had gotten better about this sort of behavior over the last few months, but they still fell back into bad habits like this. He’d gotten all the information they could from them, so he didn’t really care what his men did with them now. 

However, his Captain would beg to differ.

Not Tashigi. Oh, she had her own morals about human rights and respect, and was currently making them known to their subordinates. She yelled at them to treat their captives with basic decency, only to get laughed off. 

No, it was his other Captain, the one who had joined his command barely six months ago, climbing up the ranks until the only one she reported to was him.

The door did not slam open, but it might as well for how all movement ceased on the deck. The marines snapped to attention as the figure marched past them, who regarded them with a critical gaze. “Good reflexes, but I heard far too much chatter up here.”

“W-We’re sorry, ma’am!”

“If you’re sorry, it won’t happen again.”

She and Tashigi were the same rank, but she demanded respect where Tashigi couldn’t. Their men snapped to attention, holding a salute until she passed them by. Only then did they breathe a collective sigh of relief and scatter to their posts. 

“There are three places the needles indicate after Fish-Man Island: Risky Red Island, Raijin Island, and Mistoria Island. Straw Hat was bound to choose Raijin Island, the destination with the bumpiest needle,” Smoker looked down as the middle needle vibrated in place, “or so I thought. But then he goes and ignores all of them!”

“Which is just as well as discussing military tactics on paper; he answered the call from Punk Hazard,” she said sternly as she peered down at the log pose, then out to the island within view, where none of the needles pointed. “The reports say it’s abandoned and inhospitable, yet a signal was sent out from there? What does that mean, Vice Admiral?” 

Her question was rhetorical and all the more accusatory for it. She’d been digging her nose into something these past few months. Her and Tashigi both. He tried asking once, but all she did was lean in and whisper, “The less you know, the better. Do not carve the boat in search of a sword.” 

Tashigi had given him a bit more to work with. “There’s something we’re looking into. I can’t tell you right now, so just act like you always do.”

He would have suspected treason if not for their long working relationship. So he backed off, even as he thought that her taking the lead was odd. 

Another effect of that woman’s influence.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” he turned to the rest of his crew, his jacket billowing behind him, “come on, boys! We’re on the move!”

“Isn’t that place off-limits?” a petty-officer hesitantly asked.

“All the more reason to investigate,” she said, “set the sails and full speed ahead!” 

She’d gotten too comfortable taking over his position. Honestly, these days they listened to her more than they do him. Not that he could really blame them; the few tidbits she revealed about her past painted her as someone used to leading the charge.

What did she say they called her?

The Maiden of Iron?

Chapter Text

“Someone switch with me!” Usopp wailed, flailing his arms like he’d been thrown overboard and not safely seated in the Mini-Merry. “Yan! You’ll switch with me, right!?”

“The straws have spoken,” he said guilelessly, waving a plain straw in farewell. They had drawn straws to decide who got to explore the fiery island, ending up with Luffy, Zoro, Robin, Usopp, and Brook with the privilege of going.

But perhaps he could give them some sort of hint. Now that they had pulled closer to the island, Yan could get a better idea of it, and it was weird. “There’s a—”

“No!” Luffy yelled from his spot on the small boat's figurehead, “Don’t say anything! Adventures are supposed to be fun! And it’s no fun if you just tell us what’s there!”

“Even if it’s dangerous?”

Luffy just grinned. “Especially if it’s dangerous.”

“Understood. Have fun, everyone.”

Usopp let out another cry of betrayal as they sailed away, and his companions ignored by digging into the box lunches Sanji packed for them. The small boat rode a milky river Nami had conjured up and over the flames, gone and out of sight.

There wasn’t much to do for those that remained, so they milled about the deck, sipping on tropical drinks that didn’t fit the gloomy atmosphere at all. All the while Nami kept an eye on the horizon, brow furrowed like she was trying to figure out a complex problem.

“Something wrong, Nami?” Franky asked around a large spoonful of gelato.

“Something’s wrong with the sky over this island,” she chewed the straw of her drink, “it appears to be freezing on the far side.”

Yan said nothing, merely tilting his head in interest. The motion felt odd, weirdly unbalanced, and it took him a long moment to realize his hair was still in that bun. Without further preamble, he pulled his hair tie off and went to fix his hair into his usual style.

“Ow.”

He said it instinctively, even though it didn’t actually hurt.

"Yan, what's wro-pfft," Nami brought a hand up to her mouth to cover her vixen smile, "d-do you need some help?" She managed to offer, shoulders shaking from barely suppressed laughter.

His hand was awkwardly suspended in the air, hair caught between the chain links on his fingers. Yan huffed a breath, blowing a long strand of hair away. It fell right back in his face. “I'll get Sanji to fix it." With his hand still lodged in his hair, he made his way back to the kitchen, ignoring Nami and Franky as they finally broke into peals of laughter. He’d been careless, used to just throwing his hair up and moving on.

Sanji turned over his shoulder when Yan pushed himself into the kitchen, "Hm, Yan? What's u-pfft,'' he snorted, bringing a hand up to his mouth in a way that gave Yan deja vu. 

"Fix it," Yan said, failing to mask the irritation in his voice, "please," he added at the last second. The last thing he wanted to come across as was demanding. 

"Alright, alright, come're," Sanji said, already reaching for Yan's hair as he stepped closer. His fingers flinched back the second they made contact. Sanji had no problem messing with his hair earlier, so why was he hesitant now? Yan didn't comment, acting like he hadn't noticed, and it encouraged Sanji to get to work. Stiff fingers worked through his hair, loosening up with each freed lock of hair. He let him work in silence, and instead turned his attention outwards. 

There was an undertow pulling the ship along, noticed by both Nami and Franky. They had opted to let it run its course, occasionally adjusting the sails and rudder so that they continued to circle the island. By this point they were already a quarter of the way to the other side, drifting closer to shore. Close enough for Yan to hear it.

To...Kidnap the Straw Hat Pirates from their ship.

Yan’s eyebrows rose. Well. That was an easy Prescript to fulfill.

A small motorboat slowed to a stop on the side of Sunny, engine off and hidden in curling steam. Five figures made hand motions towards each other, tranquilizer guns strapped to their shoulders. They were dressed the same as the one who made the emergency call: cloth hazmat suits that Yan likened to old fashioned diving suits. Their head coverings rested over their shoulders like jellyfish, visors a single darkened eyehole, with a respirator connected by a tube to a large backpack. It was emblazoned with a ‘PH.’

It was eerily reminiscent of the Sweepers.

But they weren’t. They spoke in human language and the containers on their backs were filled with oxygen, not blood. In fact, using his powers to look inside the suits revealed they were perfectly normal humans with perfectly normal animal legs.

Something about that last part wasn’t quite right, but he had bigger things to worry about right now.

The shortest Not-Sweeper crouched down and fiddled with a machine. There was the soft hiss of gas being emitted, easily disguised as boiling water. Whatever gas it was, it quickly rose above the steam and settled over the deck. Sanji was wholly focused on his task, so he didn't hear the soft thump of Chopper and Nami hitting the deck, unconscious. Maybe he would have noticed Franky, if he wasn’t already seated in a lawn chair.

“Okay, done. Now carry these out to the others.” Sanji shoved a tray of drinks into his hands, before carrying his own on one hand like he was some high class waiter. “Oh, Nami~! I’ve got some delectable deep-sea crepes here! They should go well with the champagne and...” he trailed off, taking in the sight of the others passed out and the thick fog surrounding them, “Mist?”

He whirled around. “Don’t breathe it—” Sanji doubled over with a cough, the plates dropping with a crash as he covered his mouth and nose. He pushed past Yan and back into the kitchen, reaching for the Transponder Snail. “Got to...tell them...” he muttered, before he too fell to the floor.

Yan sat the serving tray back onto the table, taking one of the glasses of champagne for himself. He stepped over Sanji’s unconscious body and stood in front of the snail. He had an idea of how to answer it, but how did he make a call? There was the transmitter, which made sense, and a rotary dial. Was there a number he was supposed to know?  It had showcased a rather impressive degree of emotion a while ago, but now it only sat there impassively. 

It frowned up at him. He pressed down on its eyes, like it was a button.

“Puru.”

It narrowed its eyes at him, and all he had managed to do was annoy the thing with nothing to show for it. He tilted his head in thought. It copied the movement.

Outside, the water sloshed as the Not-Sweepers climbed on deck, and Yan knew he only had seconds to make a decision. He gave the snail one last pat, downed the rest of his champagne like a shot, and laid face-down on the ground.

Footsteps resounded closer and closer, until one of the intruders poked his head in. He waved back over his shoulder, and another member came in and dragged the both of them outside.

“Three humans, one humanoid metal-man...and one pet,” The shortest one, the leader of this operation, pointed at them each in turn. “Tie them all up. They’re pirates...This is perfect. We shall offer them to Master. After all...

“...No one’s going to raise a fuss over a few pirates gone missing.”

It turned out being kidnapped was really boring.

They had been shoved none too gently on a boat and ferried to the island, while half of their kidnappers remained on the Sunny, following behind them. The closer inland they sailed, the better idea he got of the island. It was shaped like a donut with a large lake in the middle. Although, the ‘lake’ was really just the convergence where saltwater pooled from the island being split perfectly in two. But that wasn’t all, each half of the island showcased completely polar weather: one side was caught in an eternal winter, the other a fiery blaze.

How the island could maintain such a state was beyond his knowledge, so he let it be. He did, however, know what it could cause. When hot and cold air met, the change in density resulted in a weather front being formed. Normally, either the cold or warm front would advance, but both of them were somehow at a perfect standstill. Given the extreme temperature differences at play, it was no wonder there was a lightning storm over the island.

They were on the complete opposite side from where Luffy’s group had gone, and the weather only got worse the closer inland they got.  The temperature plummeted as raging winds howled above them, only protected from the sheer and narrow cliffs their kidnappers expertly weaved between.

Near the center of the island, just barely over the frozen divide, a mountain loomed. Layers upon layers of snow piled up on and and around it, disguising where the mountain ended and began.

And the giant facility buried beneath it.

At some point, the snow must have melted, and then frozen again over the facility, for a glassy layer practically melded it into the mountain itself. Their vessel came to a stop at a set of sheer metal doors, and one of their kidnappers spoke into his microphone. The doors rumbled open, rising out of the water like a beast opening its jaws. They sailed into a large loading dock, with more people in hazmat suits running about.

Yan tuned back in to feel himself being hefted over the shoulder of one of his kidnappers, the others in the same position. Save for Franky, who had to be transported on a flatbed cart. Lucky. Yan’s head kept bumping against his porter’s oxygen tank.

There wasn’t much to do when you were relegated to being dead weight, so he took the time to map out the facility while he was carried to his destination.

The base of the building was composed of five circular buildings. One sector sat by itself towards the center of the island, and Yan could hazard that it was the main entrance to the facility. Situated towards the back and partially buried beneath the mountain were the other three buildings: two large buildings on the outside with a smaller one in between them. The biggest one lay in the center, and was the only one that connected to every other sector, connected via hallways with blockades at both ends. 

The facility was more akin to a chemical manufacturing plant than anything else, but as for its purpose he didn’t know. All he knew was something large-scale was happening here. Something that benefited from the island not being on a log pose.

“Uh, guys?” His porter suddenly said, and Yan paused his mental tracking of the facility’s layout.

“What’s up?” The one carrying Chopper said. The rest paused ahead of them.

“I think this one is dead.”

The one bringing up the rear came up and pressed his fingers into Yan’s pulse point. Even if he had a pulse, he wasn’t sure how the other would feel it through his thick gloves. “Shit. He’s right. Do you think we used too much gas?”

“Probably,” Porter sighed, “Alright. We’ll take him to the Master.”

“Sounds good, we’ll take the rest to Check-102,” the one carrying Copper said with a half salute.

The two groups split off, the others continuing down the hallway while Porter and one other turned down a different hallway. They continued in silence for a few minutes before the one guiding the way abruptly stopped. “Do you really think we should take him to the Master?”

“Why not?”

“Well, the Master is such a kind soul. He’ll be devastated when he hears his non-lethal gas accidentally killed someone,” Guide said, his voice filled with awe and respect.

“Crap. You’re right. We can’t let the Master see this. Where do you think we take him then? Waste?”

“Yeah, let’s do that. No one has to know.”

The two made an about face, and went back the way they came. They had just reached the intersection they initially started at when the one guiding them stopped again.

“What now?” Porter asked. That’s what Yan wanted to know.

Guide tapped his chin. “Why don’t we take him to the doctor? Don’t doctors work on corpses all the time? Maybe he can figure out what killed him.”

Porter snapped his fingers. “And if he finds out how much gas he inhaled the Master can adjust the dosage for the future!” he exclaimed, as if he wasn’t talking about future kidnappings.

“You’re so smart!”

“No, you are!”

The two turned again and went back down a different hallway, and Yan hoped this would be their last stop. He didn’t care where they took him, so long as they took him somewhere. He knew, logically, that he could escape at any time and end this farce, but that would only be attempted kidnapping, so he would wait until they reached their destination. The others were already deposited in a cell a few floors up.

Fortunately, there were no more epiphanies, and after a few more twisting hallways they finally stopped in front of a large set of metal double doors. Guide hit the intercom on the panel next to it. “Doctor Trafalgar, are you in?”

“What? This better be good,” a tired voice said from the other side, “I just got back dealing with the samurai.”

“We were wondering if you could look at this body here. We brought some pirates in who were sailing too close, and this one died during transport.”

“Died?”

“We were thinking he breathed in too much KO gas. He was smaller than the others.” True, but wow.

There was some shuffling on the other end, and then, “...Bring him in.”

The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a spacious room. Along one wall was a long desk, covered in sheets of papers. Propped against it was a nodachi with a fur trimmed hilt. The rest of the room was filled with various medical equipment Yan didn’t know the purpose of. 

Standing over one of the surgery tables was the doctor, though he wasn’t dressed like any doctor Yan imagined. He wore a long black coat that stopped just above his ankles, topped with a fluffy white hat. The black spots adorning it made him look like a tall, gangly, mushroom.

His back was to them, and without a word he worldlessly beckoned them over, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Poser. He’d been hunched over a comic book right before they arrived. It was still sticking out of the drawer!

His kidnappers set him on the metal table, saluted, and shuffled out of the room as quickly as they came. From this angle, most of the doctor’s face was hidden behind the tall collar of his coat and the brim of his hat. HIs golden eyes were assessing, already deciding the best way to dissect him.

He plucked open Yan’s cloak, and the edge of a mean grin peeked out. 

“Well now, what do we have here?”