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This office felt transitory. Nostalgic. Last time this place came close to feeling anything like home had to be over a decade ago. That was before the mission. That was right after the execution, right after that gaudy face got itself printed on a poster and pulled the rug from beneath his brother’s feet.
To think, she used to work in this office. This used to be her base of operations. Now it only left her feeling claustrophobic.
Eleven years ago, Sengoku requested she take charge of a task force designed to hunt down Donquixote Doflamingo. This was her chance to catch a big name. This was her chance to serve justice grand enough to flaunt on every front page. Not only bring him in, but clean up his act.
Doflamingo was her ideal target, because he wasn’t just wanted dead. He was better off alive. Better off reformed. Because he had someone waiting for him, someone with enough heart to put his neck on the line for him.
Eleven years ago, she was assigned a fleet, a battalion, and a warship with her name emblazoned on the sails. Tsuru wasn’t vain but she could be proud, and this was something to be proud of. Had any other woman in the Navy come this far? And if she managed to succeed? If her fleet brought in this notorious criminal, and she used her unconventional fruit to wring him dry? She’d be legendary. Her fleet would finally be more than the all-woman oddity.
Instead, Rosinante did what anyone in his position would’ve done. Broke down, abandoned them, and got himself killed. It was a reminder that this mission was never hers. Even though she had the clearest mind, even though she told Sengoku hundreds of times, this is a mistake, he’s too close. She was never really in charge. It all rested on the boy.
She didn’t resent him. How could she? They were all complacent, and because of that, she lost her chance altogether. Doflamingo scraped by unscathed, twice as paranoid. They would never be able to attempt anything like this again.
Now, he was appointed as the third Warlord of the Sea. Rosinante wasn’t kidding when he warned them his brother was intelligent. What better way to cover his tracks? To eradicate any lingering evidence a spy might have leaked? The demon pilfered heavenly tributes at a sickly rate until it became too much. Until the World Government had no choice but to offer him a position, in exchange for his mercy.
If anyone was pulling the strings of her career, it was Doflamingo.
It was difficult to work in this office. It was difficult to imagine a time she was able to focus here. To dwell on work, rather than perceived failures. It was no surprise when she heard that knock on her door, and realized the report she was supposed to sign off remained unmarked.
“You’re still here.” The admiral slid into the room and shut the door behind him. “Do you ever sleep?”
“When I do, you usually call to ensure I don’t.” Tsuru quipped with a tense smile. “I just need another moment on this.”
Sengoku dismissed her concern with the wave of a hand. “That’s not relevant at the moment. I came here to discuss something else.”
The vice admiral wove dry fingers together. “Which is?”
“Well…as I’m sure you’re aware, the warlord meeting is approaching—”
Tsuru raised a palm in defiance. “No.”
Taken aback, Sengoku adjusted the knot in his tie. “Er…if you’d…let me finish—”
“I know what you’re going to ask. I will not accompany you.”
“We’re short on staff.” He continued, “This isn’t about me, or what I’m comfortable with. The other vice admirals are rightfully terrified of Doflamingo, they’ve almost all backed out. Fleet Admiral Kong doesn’t trust anyone at a lower rank, given the severity of this meeting.”
“I will not accompany you to Mariejois.” She flattened her hands over the report. “Let that be my final stance.”
“I’m just the messenger.” Sengoku let her denial whizz over his shoulder. “This…was not my idea. Fleet Admiral Kong requested your presence.”
“Did he?” Tsuru reached for the receiver of her transponder snail, planted there on the corner of her desk. “I’ll give him a call then, and tell him I’m unable to make it.”
Sengoku’s throat tensed. He watched her lift the receiver. Dial a few numbers. “Don’t.” He cut in just before she could press that last key. “It’s…not exactly his choice, but—”
“So, you’re lying.”
“Well, he expressed to me that we need more vice admirals. He didn’t specifically request you, but—”
“I refuse.” Tsuru decided simply, flicking a few fingers at him. “Now, remove yourself from my office.”
Instead of drawing away, Sengoku moved in closer. He took the seat across from her, pressing his hands on her desk. An image of desperation. Tsuru’s jaw clenched.
“Tsuru, please. I am humbly urging you to accompany me for this meeting.”
“And I humbly decline your gracious offer.”
“It is our duty to serve justice over all.” Sengoku reminded, “Regardless of personal hang-ups.”
“Yes, so why are you asking me to hold your hand?” She countered, “I’m sure there are plenty of other vice admirals you could pester with this.”
“None of them know him as well as you do.”
A light scoff. “Does anyone really know that man?”
“None of them deserve to be there as much as you do.”
“Need I remind you, you discharged my best commodore after this mission collapsed. I haven’t forgotten that.”
“Need I remind you, time changes things.” Sengoku met her eye. “Especially for a man as fickle as Doflamingo.”
Tsuru raised her chin, because she couldn’t quite place his argument. “What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.” He stated clearly. “Merely suggesting. Perhaps playing along would do us well, for now. I’d like you to be there to see this through. I know this mission was of great importance to you.”
For the first time in a long while, Sengoku’s idea didn’t seem so preposterous.
He wasn’t a coward, but he was running late, and that was the first word that came to her mind. Sengoku was hardly ever late to anything. It was unnerving to see him be apprehensive, and maybe that fueled her urge to get there early. There was nothing to fear. She could hold her own against Doflamingo, if he decided to use this as a chance to shed blood. She deemed it unlikely, though.
This was the perfect position for someone with his goals. Whatever those were.
Two vice admirals flanked her as she pushed the meeting doors open and took in the sights. It was her first time in Mariejois. She found working with pirates utterly pointless, if not detrimental. Her colleagues seemed honored to stand upon the land of Celestial Dragons, but she knew damn well they were just as human as the rest.
Maybe a little too human, at times.
Just as the doors settled behind her, an elegant, stained-glass pair across the room craned open. Considering how flamboyant his ship was, Tsuru couldn’t be surprised with the dramatic entrance. Strange that he was allowed here alone, out on a balcony, no less. He must have found some way to invite himself in.
“Well, well, well…”
There were countless times she’d come close to either Doflamingo or his crewmates. But nothing like this. Never on the same ground. He had his brother’s height, although it had been years since she actually saw the younger man. The pitch of his voice was similar too, but that was about where the similarities ended.
Different smile. Less of a dumb beam and more of a cunning bite. Different cadence. He was in full control of those awkward limbs. Different odor. Liquor must’ve been his vice, rather than cigarettes. He extended a blocky hand and stooped down to her height. A mirror image. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Vice Admiral.”
With a curt smile, Tsuru kept her hands folded behind her back. “I don’t advise shaking my hand.”
His expression twisted with elation. “Why is that? Don’t trust yourself?”
“Mm, something like that.”
“Ah, how sweet of you to consider my wellbeing.” He recoiled the hand and used it to secure his tie pin. “We are allies now, after all.” With a little delighted laugh, his head angled aside. “But I take it that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“I’m here for a mandatory warlord meeting.” She replied, “You’d better set your ego in place.”
Most of the other marines congregated around one side of the table. More flooded in and a few of them flinched when Doflamingo selected a chair near the vice admiral.
He smiled, as if flattered. “I’m so glad you’re here, really.” He leaned across the table with those too-long arms, that too-broad ribcage, that too-bendy spine. His head hung sideways, suspended in her personal space. The glasses didn’t budge an inch, and his volume dipped. “You’re just the woman I wanted to talk to.”
She found her glare fixed on the tip of his tongue, peeking between incisors. “Concerning?”
“I’m thrilled my brother was able to find someone in his miserable, damaged little lifespan. Just wish she was a bit younger.”
He laughed. Be it from her repulsed eye roll, or perhaps the thrill of his own joke. His body withdrew like a marionette on lifted strings, and when a new figure entered the room, his attention had completely shifted gears.
He was up and out of her space. A miracle. Sir Crocodile became his next target for verbal abuse, and judging from the expression carried with the first warlord, he was none too pleased about this new invite, either.
The two clearly knew each other. Tsuru folded her arms and silently observed their one-sided banter, while other officials remained on-edge. Crocodile, the World Government’s favorite tool, was familiar with Donquixote Doflamingo. True scum of the sea. He played an ignorant, dismissive role at the moment, a lion harassed by a hyena, but there was no saying what sort of relationship they maintained outside of government affairs.
Pointless. Pointless and utterly detrimental.
Admiral Sengoku and Fleet Admiral Kong entered the room just half a minute later. Sengoku’s goat seemed awfully interested in the new face. She clopped towards him as Sengoku found the seat beside Tsuru. Sniffed the area around the warlord while he stared at her curiously. He extended his arm to either let her sniff him or pet her, but she didn’t take the bait. Maybe she could sense something was off about him.
The fleet admiral introduced himself and the others, and began to explain the details of how these meetings would operate. The duties Doflamingo would be responsible for, the freezing of his bounty. Needless information for those who already knew the drill. When Doflamingo finally had the chance to introduce himself, Sengoku leaned in towards Tsuru and spoke under his breath.
“It’s almost uncanny.”
“Not in the slightest.” She argued lightly, fingers knotted over her mouth. “And it pains me to realize we sent him in there for years.”
Sengoku mirrored her posture to continue the conversation. “Stands to reason he might be a bit more unhinged than he was before the mission.”
“Over a year has passed since then.” She mused. “But I suppose without that report, we’ll never know for sure.” Before they could get caught, she recentered her focus on Kong, and Sengoku did the same.
When the meeting finally adjourned, Fleet Admiral Kong lamented Gecko Moriah’s absence, and Crocodile immediately dismissed himself in a sandy gale. Kong wished the others well and gathered his paperwork, trailing after a few skittish marines.
Doflamingo stuck around as Tsuru and Sengoku prepared to head out. He closed in on the vice admiral again, but Sengoku intercepted. Tsuru had to admit, she was rather impressed with the professional, polite smile he boasted. “Doflamingo. We didn’t get the chance to meet.”
“Seems not.” Doflamingo shook his hand firmly. “Admiral Sengoku, yes? I take it this thing is yours?” Hidden eyes landed on the little goat who toddled over, staring up at him blankly.
“Ah, yes, she is.” He briefly addressed the pet. “In fact, I’m quite sure you were familiar with her previous owner. Terribly sorry for your loss.”
A puff of air escaped through his grin. “Must be a burden around the office. I could take her off your hands. I’ve still got a few of his things to burn, and she looks like she’d make a nice roast.” He crouched down across from the little caprine, who stepped back warily. “Then you can reunite in hell. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“She’s plenty comfortable here with me.” Sengoku assured him amicably, and the goat bleated along, as if supporting his claim. “It’s reassuring to hear you’re just as heartless as he made you out to be.”
“I do my best to uphold my reputation.” When the blond straightened up, he rested his hands in his pockets and addressed Tsuru. “Makes two of us. You’re never going to let me out of your sight, are you?”
“Not for one second.” Tsuru confirmed. “Tread carefully, Doflamingo.”
“Oh, I will.” He promised with a laugh, “If there’s one person who I’d ever fear…” Doflamingo loomed over her, fingers dancing over her shoulder. “It would be you.”
Just as she reached to swat at him, Doflamingo stepped away and bashed the door open without a care. His voice filled the entire corridor as he strutted backwards with feathery arms extended. “You know, if this wasn’t such a twisted organization, I like to think you’d be standing in a much higher position. You almost got me! You’ve come closer than anyone ever will!”
The doors closed smoothly and silently. Tsuru stared ahead, brow heavy. The goat stood between them and sneezed. With a heavy sigh, Sengoku adjusted his spectacles and held the door open for her. “It’s going to be a long couple of years.”
“That’s uncharacteristically optimistic of you.” Tsuru muttered on her way out. “I’ll give it a decade.”
A little over a decade passed when Tsuru received a call while working in her office. Donquixote Doflamingo had fallen, and Dressrosa was liberated. She made her way over promptly, because the status of the former warlord was relatively unclear.
He seemed healthy enough in chains. Healthy enough to speak.
“Oh…Tsuru…I should’ve figured you’d pull yourself from the woodworks…”
They had him primed in stripes. Ready for the deepest level of Impel Down. She recalled that conversation with Sengoku, back when he was still an admiral. When he was still a marine. As soon as Rosinante revealed he carried Conqueror’s Haki, it was decided. Sixth level, and no less.
“I’m not going to beg for freedom…but I will grovel if it means I earn a favor from your merciless heart…”
“A favor?” She folded her arms with a snide smirk. It was too dark for her to make out much of him. Couldn’t imagine he’d be smiling at a time like this. “Well, go ahead and amuse me with this favor.”
“…my glasses were broken, and lost…I’d like a replacement…”
“Your sunglasses?” It was impossible to keep the disbelief from her tone. “Are they really that important to you?”
“I-It’s a matter of dignity, we’ll say…” He rasped. “I’ve had them since I was a boy, and I—I’m only asking a small favor of a woman so powerful. There is no ulterior motive. Replace my glasses yourself, if you don’t trust my word.”
After some quiet contemplation, Tsuru left the vessel. They were still loading more Donquixote Pirates onboard, recovering villains from rubble. She had time. A group of a dozen men from the landing party were lucky enough to be loitering around the docks. Upon her order, they dispersed to search for his glasses. She figured it was near impossible they’d turn something up, but they did.
One of them located the cracked lenses, comically large in her hands. They nearly flinched out of their skin when she ordered them to return with the glasses intact, seeing how useless that broken set would be. After a few cups of tea and a bicker with her former colleague, the men returned with the glasses, repaired. She didn’t ask how such a thing was possible. She’d have to thank them for their efficiency later.
It wasn’t her war vessel, so it figured the men were a bit disobedient. A bit unused to her style.
“S-Sorry, ma’am, did you say you want us to let you in there?”
“That’s right. It’s also an order.”
The officers exchanged a glance. A clumsy young man provided a key, seemed like maybe it should be in better hands, and unlocked the door. Doflamingo didn’t budge an inch. Not when the door opened. Not when Tsuru stepped inside. Not when it slammed shut, as if they’d dropped live prey into a tank of piranhas.
Was he still alive? A rustle of chains around his stomach signified respiration, but was he conscious? She didn’t have a full report of the day’s events under her skin yet, but it was obvious enough to assume Doflamingo didn’t go down easily. She narrowed her eyes in the darkness before she bit the bullet and knelt beside his head. His eyes were closed, but so was his mouth. Was he simply asleep?
There was a simple way to wake him, if this noise wasn’t enough. A kick beneath the ribs got him stirring. And shouting.
“Evil…” He swallowed back a mouthful of something, bound limbs trembling, jingling the chains against the stone floors. “Evil woman…”
“If you ever assumed you’d have my sympathy, you’re—”
Tsuru cut herself off. Because now her vision had adapted to the darkness. Because now Doflamingo was glaring up at her with his eyes, his eye, because the left eye was…
“Beyond repair.” He grunted, “Do you have the glasses, or have you come in here to unleash your pent-up, geriatric fury?”
Her footsteps scuffed against the damp floors. There was something familiar in that look. Someone who was freshly abused, ripped from his family, and too battered to make any sense. It was a good thing Sengoku wasn’t here.
Doflamingo remained still when Tsuru knelt beside him and provided the glasses from her pocket. Stared into her gaze until it was obscured by a red lens. “Do you know why I’ll never even consider forgiving you for any of this?”
“I could think of a few reasons…”
“Because he never assumed you were beyond repair.” Once the glasses were snug over his ears and the bridge of his nose, she stood with her arms folded. “And you went out of your way to prove him wrong.”
“Then why are you here…?” Doflamingo chuckled lowly, masking his confusion. “Why are you granting me this mercy? Why haven’t you flexed that devil fruit of yours? Or is that over your head?”
Upon her signal, the guards let her out. She didn’t go very far. She stood before the bars and watched him shuffle uncomfortably. “Because as I’m sure you’ve learned, sometimes kindness can be the cruelest treatment there is.”
With an indignant grunt, Doflamingo’s head shifted, and the oncoming silence let her know he had nothing more to say. A rare moment of peace in his company.
With a sharp snap of her fingers, Tsuru glanced to the ogling officers. “One of you. Fetch me a chair.”
“A, a chair, ma-am?”
“Yes. I’ll sit here and keep an eye on him. The rest of you are dismissed, occupy yourselves elsewhere.”
With a collective shrug, the soldiers dispersed towards the stairwell, and Tsuru was offered a folding chair to wait in. She’d see this through to the end. Watch them lock him behind bars, if she could.
It was a shame it took this long to nail him down, and a shame she wasn’t the one responsible. But the strings had been severed. Tsuru could essentially fly free now, untethered from a target who escaped her time and time again, ruined her plans, and worked the system to avoid her for almost as long as he’d been alive.
It was such a strange feeling. Somewhere between emptiness and a fresh start. A clean ending. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance Rosinante’s dreams of restoration could come to fruition, now that Doflamingo was sentenced to isolation from his cult of a crew. She’d give him some time to settle into his own thoughts, his humble fate.
She’d see him through to the end.