Chapter Text
"Katakuri! Oven! Daifuku! I can’t leave you alone for five minutes! You terrible kids!" Charlotte Linlin’s booming voice makes the triplet boys hunch their shoulders.
Well, sure—they’ve played a bit too hard and wrecked a couple of village houses, but who hasn’t? Is it their fault the locals don’t know how to build properly? Using nothing but cardboard and sticks, no less!
But as luck would have it, they have gone too far and demolished the wall of the pier-side pub—the very one where Mama, Streusen, and most of the crew are celebrating another successful raid.
For ten seconds, Linlin stares in shock at the pastoral landscape that now stands where the wall used to be, accidentally missing her mouth with a piece of cake. Ginger ale splashes from her tilted mug onto the floor.
"Why aren't you in class?!" she finally demands sternly. "Where is the teacher? Am I keeping him on board just to let this outrage happen?!"
Mama’s creeping Haki spreads like a veil, trailing the shrill, grating notes of her voice. Katakuri only shrugs, while Oven and Daifuku exchange glances; unlike them, he has inherited that strange, stinging power from Mama and can look her in the eye almost fearlessly.
"Forget about the classes, Linlin!" the short, nimble Streusen chimes in from behind her. His cheeks are flushed, and his top shirt buttons are undone. All of Charlotte's eldest children have already outgrown him. "Do you really want to lock these brats in a stuffy cabin all day? We’re on the Summer Islands! Give them a break—they’re on vacation!" He winks at the boys and cheerfully slaps his knees. There is a sly glint in his eyes, much like their brother Perospero’s (when he plans to sneak away from his noisy siblings to read in peace). "Nobody cares, it's just a wall! You were quite the troublemaker yourself as a kid. And even now, not much changes."
"Huh?" Mama turns toward him, her tall, imposing figure shifting. A cake crumb falls into her ample cleavage and vanishes—perhaps forever. "Since when did you get so soft? But why not..." A predatory smile spreads across her face, so menacing that even Katakuri takes a step back. "Let's give the children a vacation. And not just these three."
***
At sunset, the kids are dropped off in a row on an island forgotten by Heaven and man: Perospero, the insolent triplets, a scowling Amande, and little, fidgety Cracker—the only one of the bunch who is delighted by this sudden adventure. Everyone who was caught is put in the boat. Tiny Brulee huddles close to Katakuri, timidly turning her pointy nose from side to side. Unlike her lively twin Broye, she did not have the courage to let go of her big brother and run when Mama was rounding everyone up with a heavy "educational" hand—regardless of who was right or wrong.
Perospero grimaces: once again, as punishment, he is appointed leader of this disobedient gang because he failed to keep track of them. And now, while the others start a game of coconut football on the beach, he has to gather branches and dry palm leaves for the evening fire and arrange a place to sleep. His long tongue, which hardly bothers him on the ship, catches prickly grains of sand carried by the wind, and Perospero irritably tucks it back into his mouth.
On the other hand, they are lucky the island’s climate is warm, and Streusen donated a couple of pieces of sailcloth and a whole bag of supplies. So, for the next few days (and nights), the pedagogical "survival game" started by Mama won’t turn into a real struggle for survival. Did she really call this a "vacation"?
The ever-silent Amande helps him, pulling up a fabric canopy under his meager guidance. Previously, they have successfully avoided each other; Perospero sometimes gets the chills from her frozen gaze. But Amande, unlike the other careless siblings, seems useful. She does everything slowly—terribly slowly—but reliably.
…The coconut flies into the bushes, and Cracker quickly runs after it—only to freeze in front of a thick, flat snake’s snout poking out from the greenery.
"Brother Peros!!!"
A candy whip lashes with lightning speed at the snake's mouth, which has unwisely bared its fangs. The long, flexible body instantly slithers away into the thickets, hissing what sounds like offended curses—well, let it learn not to mess with the Charlottes! And let it pass that knowledge on to its snake friends!
"Brother Pero-o-os!.." Cracker is barely seven, and he has not forgotten how to cry like a desperate child. He seems to be realizing that Mama’s "vacation" is not just about games. Next to him, Brulee starts to wail just for company, both clinging to Perospero’s knees. Perospero sighs and sits back in his newly created caramel lounge chair. He mechanically pats their light-purple heads, secretly dreaming of a cup of fragrant black tea. With three cubes of cane sugar, no less.
He meets Katakuri’s gaze, and the boy suddenly gives an approving nod. The other two nasty brothers (Perospero is sure he was never that nasty at ten!) become serious as if on command and nod too. Daifuku spins the ill-fated coconut with the toe of his shoe.
Late in the evening, they sit huddled together under the canopy near a small fire—only Perospero stays apart. Because of his Candy-Candy fruit, he feels uncomfortable near an open flame. Additionally, he burned his right hand painfully when Oven, while starting the fire, blew so powerfully and carelessly that the flames nearly reached the sky.
Perospero glances sideways at the youngest ones, nestled next to Katakuri and Amande and snoring like kittens—and he feels a pang of something like envy. He shakes it off: fine, let them be comfortable by the fire. He will endure. He is the eldest; he must stay on guard.
***
Over the course of a couple of days, other animals are terribly unlucky to cross paths with the Charlottes: a few leopards, thieving monkeys, and a shadow that looks like a small dinosaur. Truth be told, the shadow, noticing Katakuri’s predatorily sparkling crimson eyes, wisely decides against an introduction and vanishes before the triplets even have time to show interest.
The bag of Mama’s sweets quickly runs dry, so they turn to the gifts of nature: berries, fruits, coconuts unfit for football, and sea fish. It turns out Amande is excellent at weaving nets from the local tough grass. She sits in the shade, her long neck bowed, hiding her face under a wide-brimmed hat with a long blade of grass twitching between her lips. While she is silently and invisibly busy with her work for half the day, the triplets manage to stir up half the island, engaging in a hooting chase with a wiry old boar—not for the sake of its tough meat, but solely for the fun of it.
Perospero sighs loudly, watching from the hill as Katakuri and the boar, driven into a ravine, exchange glances. They seem to be comparing fangs, and then the boar… well, if it were human, you’d say it "turns pale." Despite his age, his younger brother has plenty of Haki, and he is already as tall as the average adult. Perospero wonders what kind of Devil Fruit Mama will give him—and his brothers—for their next birthday. He has no doubt it will be something useful. And, most likely, useful for Mama’s taste. She loves tasty things.
The boar trots into the underbrush on buckling hooves, and Perospero hands a fruit lollipop to a curious Brulee, who is joyfully watching the "piggy" from behind him. She is hardly afraid of the wild creatures anymore—now that they have been intimidated by the triplets—and she smiles contentedly with her gap-toothed mouth.
"Brother Peros, I want a house where many, many different animals live! And monkeys! And piggies! And foxes!"
"Brulee," he replies judiciously, "you know Mama. Animals aren't allowed on the ship. They’re only found in the forest, perorin."
"Oh…" The little girl’s face falls, but not for long. "Then can I live in the forest myself?"
Perospero rolls his eyes and sends everyone, except Amande, to go fishing.
While the rest are fooling around in the water—scaring away potential prey more than catching it—Amande goes to a dam near a stream and sits there for a long, long time. She watches the elongated, silvery backs of tiny fry glide through the water, not bored in the slightest.
For dinner, they eat tuna that Daifuku caught, chatting as they listen to the roar of the ocean rolling onto the shore. From time to time, they complain about the lack of sweets, but lazily, more out of habit. That morning, they have completely licked the caramel lounge chair clean. Brulee uses a sharp shell to carve something resembling a doughnut out of a mango and shyly gives her creation to Katakuri, licking her juice-stained fingers.
While fishing, Cracker managed to step on a sea urchin and now, with tears in his eyes, shows everyone his reddened heel.
"What kind of brave warrior of the sea are you?" Oven teases him kindly. "Afraid of a little sting and some pain!"
Cracker wrinkles his nose and quiets down for a moment, pondering.
"When I grow up, I’ll ask Mama for a fruit that makes me very, very sturdy! Like… like… like hard-baked biscuits! Then not a single painful sting will touch me!" he finally announces, narrowing his eyes slyly. "I’ll make myself unbreakable armor. I’ll be like a knight!"
Everyone makes fun of the sissy. Daifuku calls him the Knight of the Biscuit Armor. Forgetting his wound, Cracker resentfully stamps his pricked heel into the sand.
***
Mama comes back for them in a week.
She expects to meet sad, thin—and subdued!—faces, but instead, she sees tanned, cheerfully smiling ones. Linlin watches in surprise as everyone climbs into the boat together. Nobody pushes; the older ones help the younger ones. Katakuri is the last to board, carrying his eldest brother on his shoulder—Perospero has been weakened by the seawater washing over the sands of the bay. Once in the boat, Perospero straightens up proudly; the fresh air has done him good, and he does not look as pale as usual. He has done a great job, managing to look after everyone all by himself. Perhaps it is time to officially induct him—and the triplets—into the crew…
Wary animal faces peek out from the thickets. Someone lets out a parting roar. Little Brulee turns and waves her hand:
"Bye-bye, little animals! Don't be lonely!"
Linlin laughs, generously handing out fresh biscuits and doughnuts to everyone:
"Mamma-mamma! It looks like there really is something special about this 'vacation'…"