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Doll had aspirations beyond serving as a cadet. Same couldn’t be said for most of these broom-pushing, mop-wielding underlings. Her colleagues were comfortable as underlings. These men were comfortable with mediocrity. Doll saw justice coats on the shoulders of the unworthy and felt a kick of fury.
This system was broken, but she’d play along for now. She was still too green. She’d get herself in a position where she could bend the rules to her liking.
For the longest time, Doll kept her focus clear and her efforts clearer. That was until Bell-mère appeared. She was a cadet from the East Blue who blew in out of nowhere, as far as Doll was concerned. Didn’t catch the full story about why she was here. All she could tell was this newcomer wasn’t thrilled about joining this Grand Line squad either.
A petty part of Doll found herself irritated that she wasn’t the only woman in her squad anymore. Now there was this pink, punk, puny waste of a position in her lineup. Now she was going to be lumped in with this pushover. She was going to get killed out here. East Blue imports were always fodder, anyway. She wouldn’t stick around long.
Doll managed to avoid her for a while. That was until the whole squad was out on a mission. Until they both hooked the same left around the ruins of a burning house to try and corner the same crook. Doll’s insignificant grudge urged her to order the newcomer to stay back. The other cadet plowed through anyway. Tackled the pirate to the ground. She was truly fearless. Doll couldn’t tell if that was a sign of an early death or solid bravery.
When the supposed pushover wrangled herself on top of their target, he plunged a knife into her thigh. Bell-mère was unfazed. She flipped the rifle from her back and slipped the barrel between his parted teeth.
Doll lowered her pistol when the man was dead. Bell-mère swiped the blood and matter from her face and looked up with a smile.
“Sorry, stole your kill.”
Doll batted her eyes. Processed reality compared to her assumptions. Maybe that’s why this girl was shipped in from the East Blue. She was cutthroat. She was gritty and wild. She was a living weapon.
A very attractive weapon.
“You’re wounded.” Doll offered a hand when Bell-mère stood and used her gun as a crutch. “We’ve done some good work, we don’t want to overdo anything.”
“Yeah, guess so…” Bell-mère took the offering a step further and slung an arm around Doll’s shoulders. “Didn’t know the bastard had a knife on ‘im.”
“Most pirates are unexpected.” Doll glanced at the injury for herself. Didn’t look all that bad, but it was better not to chance it. “Let’s go.”
To confirm Doll’s suspicions, Bell-mère wasn’t in the infirmary very long. A day, at most. Next day she was in the canteen late that night with the other glorified barflies. When Doll approached, the other men parted like the sea. She had established herself as the queen bee amongst the other cadets, at least. One step towards getting her grip on the system.
“Oh, hey.” Seemed the East Blue native was a bit more spacey than usual. The three empty mugs around her half-finished plate provided a reason for that. “Doll, right?”
“That’s right.” Doll sat beside her and lit herself a cigarette. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Oh yeah, it wasn’t much of anything.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I still feel bad about it, really, we coulda’ found someone else for you to get your hands on.”
“There will be more opportunities,” Doll assured her, glancing her way curiously. “You’re awfully ruthless, though. I admire that.”
“Thanks.” Bell-mère grinned. Such a bright, warm thing. So strange to see on someone who was so brutal just forty-eight hours ago. “Eye for an eye, right?”
Doll hummed. “Suppose so. It just surprised me to see someone from the East Blue with your…intensity.”
“Oh yeah?” She raised a brow. “It’s a sleepy place for the most part, yeah, but keep in mind, that’s where Roger was born.” She plucked the limp cigarette from Doll’s idle fingers and took a nice deep drag. “We’ve got something dormant in our blood, I think. Some kinda beast, always lurking under the skin.”
Doll tried to remain focused. Getting attached to any of her colleagues was foolish. Even if this one was attractive. And certainly laying some flirt on with the way she was leaning in and lowering her voice. Even if she was tough and seemed to have a similar drive for crushing her problems one throat at a time.
On the other hand, Doll was never one to deny the temptation of blood and flesh.
“Are your barracks nearby?” Doll tried to remain nonchalant, eyes following trails of twining smoke.
Bell-mère’s eyes lit with delight. “Wanna see some of my intensity for yourself?”
“I’m dying to see who will come out on top.” She could feel Bell-mère’s eyes linger on her dark lips as her fingertips trilled the surface of the table.
“You’re on, Dolly.”
One night became every other. Doll was almost content with the situation. She had greater aspirations in the Navy, but Bell-mère…
As the nights strung together, Doll would ask Bell-mère to stay the night. A few hours was enough of a compromise. She’d seek Bell-mère out in the canteen, sat with her, shared smokes and drinks and even meals. Sought her out for target practice together. Teamed up when they went out on missions.
They were an efficient duo. Nobody bothered them when they ate together because they could both tear anyone a new asshole without batting an eye. Even pirates feared their teamwork. They were efficient, but Doll could sense something more lurking beneath the skin. A different type of beast.
Oddly enough, it was unleashed every time Bell-mère laughed. Seeing her rage and power lit a fire under her skin, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t her rare, sweet touches, or the feeling of her lips, her tender whispers or toned body. It was her laugh. It was when joy touched her heart strong enough to have her slap the tabletop and throw her head back with an unrestrained cackle. It was the way her voice carried across the hall when an inside joke was passed in a hush.
Doll wanted to hear that laugh forever.
“Doll?”
Bell-mère was gazing at her with that raw concern. They met at the canteen for an important conversation, supposedly. Doll figured she knew where this was going.
“I uh, I wanted to ask if you planned on serving in the Navy for the rest of your life.”
“I’d love—what?”
“Well…” Bell-mère’s eyes wandered across the mostly empty mess hall. “I’m scheduled back to the East Blue, soon. But…I dunno, I like what we have. I’m thinking of discharging.” Her voice was low, hushed, but it didn’t give any butterflies. Left a different, sickening flavor in the back of Doll’s throat. “I thought if you wanted, we could discharge together. Make a new life for ourselves. Bounty hunters, maybe?”
“You…you’re scheduled to go back to the East Blue?” Doll uttered in a panic, “why?”
Bell-mère shrugged. “This was only a temporary assignment. Now they deem me impressive enough to serve as a captain out there.”
“Captain, but…” Doll held her forehead. “I want nothing more than to rise up through the ranks here. In the Grand Line. W-With you.”
Bell-mère paused. Smoked a bit. “I’m not staying here regardless. I hardly want to be a Marine anymore, Doll.”
“We’ll rewrite things. You and I,” Doll promised. “Stay with me, Bell-mère. We’ll redefine the Navy or die trying.”
She could see Bell-mère’s throat swell. “Let me talk to my superiors.” She put out her cigarette under the table and stood. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
“Yes, yes.” Doll nodded sharply as Bell-mère turned away. Toyed with her extinguished cigarette with manicured, dark nails. Chances were slim, but what if she didn’t have to dream alone? What if they could rewrite justice together?
Doll never found Bell-mère that night. The following morning, her barracks were vacant. According to the lieutenant, she was shipped back to the East Blue overnight with the other survivors. She should have expected as much. It was too optimistic to assume Bell-mère would share the same urge to crush throats. Her intensity was like a wildfire, and Doll was a fool for trying to tame it.
Time passed, but Doll could never forget the sound of her laugh. Hopefully, wherever she was, she was still laughing.