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Ben Beckmann is always aware of something. His mindful perspective towards every situation is undoubtedly wise, which coherently makes him a suitable vice-captain. He calculates every risk and considers everything before making a decision. But that also makes him easily read people’s countenance, even the most visible thing in front of his eyes as he caught the Captain’s skepticism.
Shanks had been quiet after the meeting with his executives.
Beckmann takes a puff of his cigarette. “Shanks,” he calls and the red hair doesn’t faze, still sitting with a wandering gaze in his chamber along with scattered documents on the table. Observing him like this, Beckmann already understands. He exhales heavily and the smoke ruffles into the air before he continues, “I don’t think you should do this. We should go to Elbaf.”
The smell of the smoke that tickled Shanks’ face finally makes him blink. That uncertain, weary gaze watching Benn Beckmann with a forceful smile and Shanks truly bad at hiding something. “Sorry, Beck. What were you saying again?”
Beckmann’s dark irises squint at the face and the subdued voice. Screw Yasopp and Lucky Roux who had this stupid plan. Beckmann knows exactly how this situation has always led Shanks to be like this, even before Marineford or the post-war. For all the situations he has witnessed, he truthfully doesn’t quite like this one. Beckmann shuts his eyes as he smokes again. “Drop it.”
Shanks doesn’t answer immediately but he shifts his gaze watching the porthole next to him. There, what he catches is only the sea. Nothing is wrong with the sea, really. It’s always like that, always the same, always blue and serene. The rhythm of waves swaying, the radiant light makes the sparkling blue befriended with the majestic, pleasant horizon. It's kind. It’s blue. And it always reminds him of those strands of hair…
It’s always him, to whom he should throw this feeling at.
Beckmann notices that he has already finished two cigarettes upon entering this room. He had wasted his time more than he was supposed to here, either he had to make a decision or make Shanks—
“Beck.”
To his surprise, Beckmann looks up to see his Captain with slightly dilated eyes. Ah, it’s already there. He already knows what’s going on after this.
Shanks lets out a helpless smile. “Let’s do this.”
There comes a stillness before Beckmann takes another cigarette to his lips, lights it, sucks, and breathes out heavily. “You are so desperate.”
And it wasn’t a compliment.
Beckmann lets out a soft snort. In the end, it’s also his duty, after all. “I’m coming with you.”
.
Crocodile is furious, and so is Mihawk but the man only looks menacing with his resembled hawk-eyes. He truly despises this situation. Another blue-haired man is screaming in pain after Crocodile brutally persecuted him, a detached head that had been separated from his lower body somewhere in the room where Mihawk places his Yoru sword to stick on his ridiculous, red baggy outfit and making it unable to budge. Mihawk has been watching him next to Crocodile without any slight empathy as Crocodile keeps pressing his solid feet on the blue head on the floor.
For normal people, it was vile. For them, Buggy deserves that.
For Buggy, it was hell.
Crocodile is the same. He doesn’t care how loud every beg he utters or the painful scream Buggy’s throat shattered to the entire room. Crocodile doesn’t count how many times he makes the trashy, stupid clown understand his place with so much torture he did to him. He never liked him in the first place and how dare he talk easily about One Piece or become the King of the Pirate. How insulting. How disgusting this lowly human being dare to talk to him like that!
“I said take your word back, you stupid clown!”
Crocodile’s voice is deep and hateful. His heart is completely shut far to any commiseration in his dictionary for a mere Buggy the Clown.
A pathetic whimper only fills the torture room. Mihawk doesn’t say anything but Crocodile frowns at it. He knows he hates any kind of disobedience. He retracts his feet from the blue-haired head and decides to forcefully grab the hair, making the clown face directly at those menacing gaze. Crocodile can definitely see his creation after heartlessly abusing Buggy where the man is currently succumbing to hopeless pain; broken teeth, blood from his nose, bruises, and constant tears.
Crocodile clicks his tongue in annoyance. Ignoring him is a truly dumb way to die. “Say it!”
The smell of smoke from that thick cigar greets Buggy’s skin. Even without his lower body, he is visibly trembling either because of the pain or terrified of the former Seven Warlord in front of him. God knows why. And for now, Buggy understands he just makes the situation worse, like he just deliberately turns Crocodile into a total demon. He knows more than anyone that he is so wrong for ignoring him. He knows it but…
Why he doesn't want to admit it?
I always think highly of him. He shone so brightly with potential. It’s always him and him and he betrayed me!
Buggy is always that person, the one who will do anything to save his own life or do anything to maintain his dignity. He speaks and acts in a flashy way. He may look ridiculous and stupid and absurd but he never, ever decayed his greatest ambition for aiming One Piece and continuing Roger’s legacy. He truly wants to be the King of the Pirate!
For god’s sake, he knows he will never make Roger see him the way he saw Shanks with his potential. He knew he would never stand in that position but Buggy never became a coward for this!
Buggy lets out a sob as he finally, slowly speaks half whimpering upon seeing Crocodile again. “I… am a pirate!”
Crocodile doesn’t like the answer. He grabs Buggy’s hair even tighter. “Huh?! What the hell are you blabbering about? I said—”
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND!”
The sudden shout made both Crocodile and Mihawk taken aback. Crocodile grits his teeth and the Hawk-Eye glares in displeasure. However, looking at the clown's head hanging like that, Mihawk’s expression slightly changes into a frown because he doesn’t expect him to cry this much. Clearly, it wasn’t pain anymore. It was something else that bothers him more than the load of crap he said.
Buggy shuts his eyes as the tears stream down through his battered face. He hates this so much. “I KNOW MY PATHETIC LIFE IS DESTINED TO BE LIKE THIS! BUT I WON’T TAKE MY WORDS BACK! I’M A MIGHTY PIRATE AND I’M NOT STOPPING FOR THIS!”
Even for Shanks.
Ties always connect to him without his consent. He always steps ahead while Buggy just watches him behind. He was a mere apprentice on the Oro Jackson crew and Shanks was Roger’s favorite. He was a lowly pirate on East Blue while Shanks was an Emperor. He was a prisoner in Impel Down and Shanks was a war savior. He was a former Seven Warlord of the Sea and Shanks is still an Emperor. He is now an Emperor and everything still goes wrong and it’s always Shanks who is ahead of him…
He doesn’t understand.
Those dark irises dare to look fiercely at the former Desert King. “EVERYONE AIMING FOR ONE PIECE AND WHY SHOULD I WAIT FOR MORE? I KNOW YOU ALSO AIMING FOR THIS SO TELL ME WHAT REASON I SHOULD STOP! HOW DID I GO WRONG?!”
Mihawk is even more surprised. “You—!”
Buggy’s brows scrunch up in dismay as he is still sobbing. He doesn’t regret any of this. He looks so wretched with this agony but Buggy will never take his words back. He lets out a sniffle and watches Crocodile helplessly. “Tell me, Crocodile. Tell me where did I go wrong…” his voice cracks with a desperate plea.
The room only consists of a noticeable sob. Mihawk doesn’t say anything, exasperate of all of this nonsense and he is the type of guy who will never waste his energy on something silly. Crocodile is the opposite though. His eyes darken as he coldly glares at Buggy disdainfully. The tense, resentment is visible in Buggy's eyes as he glances up at the man.
“I really hate this,” Crocodile states coldly. The clench on Buggy’s hair is getting tighter. “You. Your nose and your outfit,” he speaks lowly of hatred in his deep voice as he suddenly raises his left hand where his golden hook is. Then suddenly, he is slashing that blue hair—which he had been grabbing on his other hand— with his hook, making Buggy’s head drop to the floor beneath with a thud.
It was hurtful and shocking. Buggy’s half-swollen eyes dilated on the scene.
Crocodile throws the rest of the hair to the clown-like it was nothing. “You and your hair are disgusting.”
A slight gasp escapes from the red lips. A painful throb clenches to his separated chest and a flash memory recaptures on his mind, the youth of them running joyfully on the shore under the red and yellow horizon overhead.
A laugh, yell, and also curses.
A sea-colored hair in a tiny ponytail sways.
An affectionate gaze watched the other one with a gentle smile.
‘Buggy!’ He called. The latter turned his body to him with a sulk, cursing something about being so slow but he didn’t reply, only walked closer to him to be able to touch the strands of his hair before grinning innocently. ‘Your hair is pretty! I think it suits you if you have long hair!’
But he doesn’t think the same now.
Maybe he was disgusting, after all.
Buggy’s head falls to the side, watching his own hair scatter to the floor beneath and only being able to look at Crocodile’s shoes in complete silence, so is Mihawk. The Hawk-Eye’s gaze is indescribable between indifference and something else because upon looking at the Clown below, he decides to close his eyes and turn his back, trying to ignore everything.
That overflowing tears is something he doesn’t want to see.
Crocodile warns once again, still in the same loathing expression. “I don’t care. Tell something to your men about this.”
.
On that day, the entire Cross Guild didn't see their beloved captain for hours after the ‘meeting’ with his executives. Outside was boisterous with fervent shouts after knowing that they would be joining to aim for One Piece, imagining things for being the world's greatest pirates upon working under Buggy, shouting his name with pride and joy. Galdino was waiting outside and wasn't sure when Crocodile told him about the changing plan with that furious expression that made him melt anytime soon so he just instantly obeyed him. Mihawk as always, nothing much to talk about. Alvida was there trying to grasp everything, though she also could sense this dreadful tense. Daz Bonez only followed Crocodile whenever he went.
One thing Galdino noticed is Buggy didn’t come out from the room with them when he needed him the most. It was pretty weird so he just shared a glance with Alvida with that uneasy look. But once they tried to peek inside, they only found scattered strands of blue hair, a hat, and Buggy’s red outfit lying on the floor.
No one is there.
.
Buggy hears faint shouts from afar where the tent and his crew are. He doesn’t care. He just curled up sitting behind a broken brick wall somewhere on the island away from those noises or anyone. The pain of the previous torture is still palpable to his forehead, or teeth, or the bruises on his skin, but he doesn’t think about this. Buggy looks like a total mess for someone with his flashy habit. The poignant words Crocodile uttered, even his own about claiming for One Piece constantly ringing through his head, thinking it was a mistake, after all. He could just run from his place but he can’t. He just can’t. For him to feel like this is just one of his misfortune days. That’s what he always reassures himself.
Shanks grins. ‘Chin up, Buggy! No matter how frustrating it is, it’s just one misfortune day! We’ll do better tomorrow!’
Buggy snorts at his own thoughts. The stupid young Shanks that tried to convince him is probably pitying him now. There is no ‘we’. It never was. It was just a mere word to prevent him from sulking all the time upon getting punished for cleaning the deck from Rayleigh and Roger just laughed heartily, thinking how funny they were.
It’s hurtful to think about this all the time.
Buggy’s lips turn into a thin line, noticing how bitter his current state is. “What a fool,” he murmurs quietly, painfully. “What an idiot…”
The clown just sits there unwavering until he hears footsteps approaching. It's quite shocking how this person is willing to even find him here.
“Buggy…?”
Ah.
That voice. That voice he knows so damn well.
Those dark irises dilate and instantly glance up to see someone he yearns doesn’t want to meet. That familiar red hair brings so many memories and betrayal and something he doesn’t understand.
Why he is here?
Red meets blue. Shanks is stunned upon seeing him, that shocking gaze on his eyes is mixed between dismay and fear.
The red hair falls silent. He carries hope and longing to see Buggy again, to hear his prideful voice or laugh or his silly expression. His fantasy dispersed right in front of his eyes, because how could he find him to be in a pitiful state like this? That bruises. That tears. That blood. That battered face. He is just wearing a black shirt and mahogany loose pants without his hat or his usual red baggy outfit. How come there was no chaos when he landed on this island as the rest of the Cross Guild is completely fine? What happened to him?
So many things he wants to know, but he notices the most visible thing in front of his eyes which shocked him the most.
That messy hair that resembles the color of the sea is no longer as long as he remembers.
Sapphires, bright azure sky, and the hair he longed to touch so dear.
Shanks feels something weird creeps up to his stomach. This sudden overwhelmed feeling he encounters is just way too much.
Buggy shifts his gaze away from him, breaking their contact. It shouldn't turn out to be like this. He shouldn’t see him in this pitiful state. He shouldn’t meet him! “Get out. Don’t think because you are a mighty Emperor you came as you like to my territory!”
Shanks doesn’t know whether he should ask about his condition or answer Buggy’s banishment to him. His lips open ajar before he completely falls silent. Shanks knows he is finally able to see him but for the love of god, what caused him to be broken like this? Buggy isn’t wrong to say that since Red Force and Cross Guild have not officially made an agreement upon becoming an alliance but that is exactly the thing he is actuating for now.
Beckmann was right. He is mad. He is desperate. He ran knowing Buggy was gone and even using his Observation haki only to see him in such a state? Shanks doesn’t understand. After all these years this feeling is making him return to the twelve years old himself where they fought together and protected each other. He would take care of him. He would sacrifice to keep him safe. And now it suddenly turns so wrong to see him like this.
Shanks doesn’t say anything. He takes a few steps closer and aligns himself with Buggy by positioning himself with one knee, placing his sword on the ground, and watching him intently with an apprehension look, though his gaze is always that gentle, the uneasiness is there.
“Buggy…” he calls softly, harmless like he is not a fearful pirate people know in the entire Grand Line but just a Shanks who cares deeply for the man in front of him.
Buggy hates that pitiful expression so much that it hurts him to see him like this. He notices that Shanks desperately leans closer to him. His hand tries to reach him and Buggy hurriedly detaches his hand and lands his palm right on his face, blocking him to stay where he is. Those dark irises glared harshly. “I said what I said! I don’t need your humble greeting! Get out!”
Shanks doesn’t budge. He is unfazed at his place, letting Buggy’s hand cover his face as he gladly welcomes it. Buggy had no idea how to kick this guy off in his current condition and Shanks is as persistent as always. Truly how irritating he is. However, that eye with three scars peeking from his fingertips is looking at him devastatingly and Buggy subconsciously lets the grip on the red-hair face loosen.
He is a prideful man. He takes no pity.
Shanks takes this as a chance to slip away and gently takes off Buggy’s detached hand from his face, gazing intently at the perplexed blue-haired ahead, observing him this close, hating that battered face and the reason behind it. Shanks’s brows angle upward concernedly. “I never hurt you.” his voice is low and desperate. He shakes his head. “Never like this.”
Never hurt him? So never scratch or make him dripping blood is what he means by that? How come his stupid words don’t even indicate everything? Come with me Buggy? Then he crumpled his dream after he said he didn’t want to go to the Laugh Tale?
Buggy scoffs. “You always talk big. You never understand everything!” He shouts, nearly shaking as he feels a tinge of pain all over his body after he moves too much only to banish the red-haired Emperor. Shanks seems to be surprised by his words and Buggy simply laughs mockingly at that. “You probably think how pathetic I am or the entire Cross Guild is a joke that it brought you here only because we are just in your way? Shouldn’t you go to the Laugh Tale now? Aren’t you satisfied to see me like this?!”
“I am NOT!” Shanks yelled back, those eyes filled with rage and distress and how come Buggy not understand? Shanks suddenly grabs Buggy’s shirt collar, making the latter surprised and the gap between them even closer. His gazes fixedly on the battered clown ahead with a tint of a desperate plea. “I never thought any of that! The reason why I’m here is you!”
Buggy refuses to accept. Just how sweet his words are.
“So I beg you, please let me know what happened to you!”
There comes stillness. Shanks doesn’t seem to be satisfied with any of this and he is confused and worried and hopeless. Buggy shifts his gaze away from him, breaking eye contact to demur him. The grip on the Buggy’s collar loosens and Shanks is truly upset. He gently pushes him back to lean against the brick again, drops his both knees to the ground before helplessly putting his forehead to Buggy’s shoulder and cast down. His lips curl into a thin line. “You cut your hair, huh?”
Shanks's voice is weak and low, nearly a whisper next to his ear. If Buggy was so much better than now, he probably already jerks him for being a jackass concerning only his hair. He was indeed cut it half shorter after Crocodile ruined his appearance so badly. What does it matter to him anyway? Buggy scoffs again. “What do you care?” he states curtly.
There is a pause before Shanks lets out a soft snort which makes Buggy think what kind of expression he is making now. Was it an insult? Or the opposite? But to think about it, to be this close, to feel each other’s presence, Buggy realizes that he can’t resist when the red hair rests at his shoulder like a fragile little kid. He takes this situation as an unthinkable indulgence and he secretly likes and hates it at the same time. Perhaps he is just tired. Right?
“It matters.” Shanks finally speaks, calm and gentle. “It matters the most. Everything.”
Buggy frowns a bit. “Everything? What are you talking about, you fool!”
This time, Shanks chuckles lightly. He snuggles comfortably and Buggy tensed a bit for that. Shanks continues, “Everything. Your hair, your nose, your eyes, your lips, even down to your fingertips. It’s you, Buggy.”
It’s always him.
After all these years, from the painful and bright memories between them, from their distance and longing, this realization brought Shanks back to this feeling at how much he puts a devotion to him that can never be easily eradicated. Shanks finally glances up and intently looks at Buggy this close with his painful expression. ”And I told you it hurts me to see you like this.”
Huh. Does he truly mean what he said?
Buggy trying so hard not to fall to his allurement. “For someone as mighty as you saying something like that to me, should I be grateful?”
Shanks only lets out a delicate smile. “For so many reasons I’m not a mighty person. I can’t even protect you.”
“You think I’m a child?!”
Shanks chuckles heartily, and somehow Buggy realizes he truly doesn’t hate it at all. Shanks throws him a gentle look before he adjusts his position and crosses his legs. His hand hesitantly tries to reach Buggy's hair but the latter hurriedly titles his head to avoid him. That makes him disheartened a bit but he keeps allowing his hand to reach, slowly, until those gray irises dilated a bit when Buggy doesn’t resist anymore but finally lets him touch it. To feel those soft strands of hair, all of these sensations burn Shanks that it agitates him knowing his hair is supposed to be way longer than now.
Shanks grimaces before he brings his hand to the back of Buggy’s head and suddenly pulls him to his embrace, encircling him to his warmth, resting Buggy’s head on his shoulder. Regrets from the present and the past haunted him, consummating his mind with questions without answers. It’s supposed to be like this anytime if he could. Shanks mutters again next to Buggy’s ear. “I… sorry. Let me be like this for a while.”
Buggy on the other hand is surprised, but actually, it’s more than that. “What the hell are you doing?! My face hurts goddammit!”
Now that being said, Shanks just remembers about the bruises on his face. He clumsily let his hand from Buggy’s back away from restraining him, feeling guilty. “Ah, I’m so sor—Ack!”
A solid punch of a fist comes directly to his cheek.
A punch. Buggy’s punch.
Buggy pulls his body again and now glaring at Shanks. His detached hand he used to punch him now keeps smacking his head, and yet unsurprisingly the latter doesn’t budge. “You idiot! You let my face hurt! Do you even know how painful it is, huh?!”
The red-hair lets out a silly grin while rubbing his cheek which has probably already reddened from the punch. “I’m sorry, Buggy. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s all because I got carried away with you.”
Truthfully, this man is so helpless.
Buggy is probably the first person who knows what kind of person Shanks is, from his determination, his strength, his bad and good habits, his stupidity and all. That man was his closest one so dear. In this ever-changing world to every occurrence they face separately, to be bonded together like this and no matter how long the time takes, there is always something that never changes. For both of them to feel the same way as their younger self is the most profoundly nostalgic feeling they ever felt.
Squinting a bit, Buggy notices that Shanks is still rubbing his cheek while weirdly smiling, the unlikely expression of getting hurt but somewhat happy. Buggy lets out a disgusted face. This man is so done. But he is still the Shanks he knows.
“You are such an idiot.” Buggy scoffs and lastly smacks that red head before he allows himself to get closer to his side and brings his forehead to rest on Shanks's shoulder again, this time, willingly. It hurts a bit but it doesn’t matter. For this time only, in this very moment, Buggy let himself succumb completely.
Shanks is flabbergasted and it’s very unhealthy for his heart to be nearly combusting. He freezes at his place looking at the broken brick in front of him like he is the most dumb and luckiest man ever.
“Shut up. Don’t say anything.” The clown answers curtly. He just takes a deep breath, letting himself relax in his position. Shanks smells like the sea. It smells like him the way he remembers their last encounter. It’s him, alive and this close.
Shanks is concerned if Buggy can easily hear his heartbeat pounding madly. And he deeply does not hate this rare situation as he can easily put his hand to Buggy’s waist to back embrace him. Shanks feels like he has ascended to heaven. “I’m not saying anything?”
Buggy doesn’t answer as he realizes this getting more awkward. But the way he notices Shanks's breath getting heavier or he lets out strange noises, Buggy already can imagine his face even though he can't see his expression now. He detached his hand once again and back smacked his head without regret. “Dammit, stop acting like a perv!”
The red hair laughs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help it! I’m so happy!” he chirps in, gently embracing him even closer and resting his chin on Buggy’s shoulder calmly. His eyes stare at his back where those strands of blue hair are there, shorter but still pretty. Shanks’ finger touches the end of Buggy’s hair and delicately plays it as if he is touching a most valuable treasure so dearly.
Buggy notices the touch. “Stop playing with my hair!”
There is a pause before Shanks finally answers. “I like your hair, Buggy,” he states softly, honestly. “Very much.”
‘You and your hair are disgusting’
The sudden voice of Crocodile back echoes to his mind and Buggy squirms a bit. He subconsciously clutches Shanks’s robes. So his feelings are still the same. For someone as nasty and detestable as him, there’s still a person in this world who cares for him, huh?
Despite everything that happened between them, Buggy doesn’t hate those words at all. “Huh. I thought you and Crocodile would say the same.”
Shanks blinks and slightly shifts his head to him. “Say what?”
“Disgusting.” Buggy says before he hurriedly continues, “Forget it. I’ve cut it anyway so it doesn’t matter now. I don’t really care about my hair. I’m already cool to begin with!” he admits proudly and looks up, trying not to feel that he owns Shanks’s consolation.
Stillness comes. It was a normal, flashy way for Buggy the Clown to be as arrogant as he should be. However, those dark irises of Shanks are getting colder and he doesn’t say any word of it. His expression changes entirely and Buggy can absolutely feel the tension this close, a sudden pressure that bothers him so he pushes Shanks away from him, breaking their intertwine.
And upon glancing at him, Buggy doesn’t understand that cold gaze at all.
“I see. I get it now.” Shanks finally says, his voice is low and chill. Then those eyes peer aside like he notices someone's presence but it seems like he doesn’t welcome it.
Shanks’ focus is not on Buggy anymore but he suddenly stands up, grabs his sword, and turns his body to wait for someone. His defensive stance is like he is trying to protect Buggy at all costs. “Buggy. I will ask Beck to help you later,” he states suddenly.
“Huh?! What are you talking about?” The clown frowns, not likely to grasp the situation.
A gust of wind blows and a sudden whistling sand vortex is visible in front of them. Buggy’s eyes dilate in horror as the sand finally turns into the appearance of someone who shares the same condescension expression as ever, standing a few meters confronting both Shanks and Buggy.
Crocodile too doesn’t seem delightful upon looking at the Red-hair Emperor. Behind him, another person walks in casually, approaching them and his hand is already holding his long sword behind. Mihawk seems to be prepared. He shares a glance with Shanks before finally standing aside with Crocodile.
“I don’t know what brings you here, Red-hair. But I don’t think I will welcome you. You just came and then you are here with our stupid clown. An old affairs, huh?” Crocodile declares coldly.
Shanks squints at that and it doesn’t sound pleasure in his ear. The clutch on his sword is now letting a red, electric spark. Buggy is far more hysterical behind that this situation suddenly turns into a battlefield. Shanks takes a step forward, blocking both Crocodile and Mihawk to see Buggy like he is trying to shield him.
“Buggy.” He calls. “Sorry, I think I need to do something.”
.