Work Text:
It was late afternoon, you had only been away from the navy base for a few weeks, but it felt like an eternity had passed. Arriving after a mission with the platoon, you had witnessed the worst, as usual. You were a new commander, but your superior Tsuru had high expectations of you, seeing potential for you to become captain in a short time. This trust was a double-edged sword. Thanks to it, you had some perks, respect from your superiors, a room of your own equipped with a small kitchen and bathroom. It was a great relief to have some space just for you, life in the collective dormitory had already been too exhausting. It all seemed very exciting, until you noticed that you were being watched closely and held accountable for your actions more than the other recruits. You had to live up to this burden, which was gradually becoming heavier and heavier.
On your last mission, Tsuru thought it would be a good idea to leave an operation under your command that day. It would be something simple, an ideal setting to train your skills as a future captain. When you received the news of this honor in the morning, you were flattered, but afraid of the responsibility. You ended up hesitating for a moment and putting the life of another recruit at risk, resulting in the death of a civilian, in addition to injuring yourself in the process. There was no great sermon, but the look of disappointment from your superior and her few words echoed painfully in your head.
"You're not ready."
It had been a busy morning, you were chasing some pirates on a small island. Apparently these pirates plundered some other islands and ships in the surrounding area and made that place their base. It was no big deal, it should have been a quick operation without any major problems. Since they kept the place as a base, the locals had some appreciation for the criminals, to the point where some of them fought to protect them or protested against the arrest of the delinquents.
Near the end of the mission, when the pirates were trapped and most of the civilians were under control, a child of apparently eight years old who looked like your deceased little brother pulled out a gun. He aimed it at a young lieutenant who was leading the arrest of one of them. It happened very quickly, but at the same time very slowly, almost in slow motion. When you looked at the little boy's face you couldn't react, you didn't realize what was about to happen. You saw the little fingers pulling the trigger as he aimed at the distracted lieutenant's head. Your instinct should have been to stop the child or protect the lieutenant, anything, just to do something. But for some reason you just watched time passing slowly, admired how the gunpowder exploded and the projectile came out of the gun barrel like an incandescent flower, a beauty of thousandths of a second.
The shot was fired. But the child's small, trembling hands missed their intended target. It had fatally hit a civilian who was closely following the arrest. The chaos woke you from your trance, and you finally realized the tragedy in progress. You automatically ran towards the boy to disarm him, but in desperation he fired the gun at you. You reached the child and snatched the gun from his small hands. You felt a warmth in your chest. You touched the spot. Crimson. You felt your vision becoming blurred and the world being enveloped in darkness. You fainted.
------
Three days after the incident, after recovering a little from the shooting, you had been sent back to base to write a report on the incident and finish treating your wound. In the meantime, your return to the field would be analyzed. This downtime was almost a form of punishment; it would not be seen favorably, especially after failing an operational test. You felt like a failure for returning like this; you felt sorry for the lieutenant who had almost been shot, felt for the dead civilian, felt for the small child. Guilt was feasting on you. Inquisitive eyes followed as you walked numbly through the battalion; you could feel them burning into your skin. You could hear their whispers in the hallways.
"Tsuru's little pet is incompetent."
You finally reached the hallway leading to your room. Still lost in thoughts, you reached for the doorknob to turn the key, but the door was already open. It was strange, you always kept it closed. The strong smell of burnt raw pasta, bolognese sauce and cigarettes filled your nostrils. You opened the door with trepidation, but you were suspicious of what was about to be found.
Silently, you inspected the small room. You found an oversized pair of boots lying next to the door, and some bags of groceries placed closer to the bed. You felt the heat emanating from the small kitchen. You heard a deep clumsy voice humming a song that was most likely made up, interrupted by the crash of what appeared to be one of the few pans you owned falling to the floor.
"Shit, why do things always have to fall out of my hands like they have a life of their own?" The man grumbled.
"They're not the ones who fall, you're the one who drops them." You retorted, finally revealing yourself.
"Y/N? You're here?" He exclaimed excitedly.
A familiar and extremely tall figure, barely able to fit in your quarters, appeared from the kitchen and entered the bedroom. He had golden hair, tomato sauce splashes on his face, and a welcoming smile. You smiled, as if the weight of what had happened had eased a little, as if you were finally home. And you were.
"A little earlier than expected, but I arrived. Thank goodness before a disaster. And what's with that burnt pasta smell?"
"Honestly, the situation in the kitchen isn't that bad… I think." He bit his lip, hoping his erroneous statement was at least somewhat believable.
You just returned a suspicious look of disapproval.
"Okay, MAYBE it's a little bad, but the intention was good. I made you some bolognese pasta, it looks questionable, but I tried it and quite liked it." He said as he approached.
"Questionable is the right word, but I trust you. But I'm still feeling a little nauseous because of the medication, I'll end up eating later when the effects wear off." You observed.
He was wearing a pastel pink apron with frills, now with several red spots, which you hung in the small kitchen, dark wash jeans, a long red shirt with rolled up sleeves. He got close enough that you didn't think about anything else, just hugged him tightly. Your small arms barely reached the man's waist because of the large height difference.
When he had first arrived at the Marine base you had been the same age but a few inches taller, you liked to tease him that you would be a much taller adult than the whiny new kid. Ironically, the time teased you back, he had grown frighteningly taller.
When he felt your embrace, the man was surprised by the longing you felt for this comfort; it was unexpected. You were always very strong and resilient, always wearing your resistant armor and facing the world. Very occasionally he would watch as you removed the pieces of your armor, he would see you slowly strip away your protections and become fragile, even if only for a few moments. He liked to be there, helping you dry your rare tears.
He returned the affectionate gesture, stroking his long fingers through your locks of hair. He understood that you were there, tearing down your fortresses at that moment.
"How are you, miss? Sengoku mentioned that you would be returning today. He told me a little about what happened. I was worried when he said that you had been injured. But he calmed me down, said that you were already conscious and responding well. It was a relief, otherwise who could crookedly stitch me up when I got hurt out there?" He mocked as he smiled gently, without breaking the hug.
You looked up, staring at the giant.
"I hate how news like this travels so fast." You grumbled under your breath.
"You weren't going to tell me?" He took offense.
"No, I knew you'd drop whatever you were doing and show up here like this." You justified.
You were reluctant to leave the hug, but slowly pulled away and layed down on the bed looking at the ceiling in thought.
"Another thing, don't complain about your nurse, you should be more grateful. About the injury, we got hurt much worse during training with Garp." You chuckled as you glanced at him.
"I know, I still have ugly scars from that time." He complained as he sat down next to you on the bed.
"It was a good time. Remember when we left the dormitory at night to explore the captains' base?" You asked with a cheeky smile.
"Of course I remember! You wanted to use my ability to sneak out, you woke me up very late at night to do it." The blond observed.
"Don't be unfair! You thought it was a good idea and had fun exploring the weird things they kept in their closets. We switched everyone's uniforms and it was a mess. No one found out who did it, it was the perfect crime." You bragged.
"It was fun, but I think Sengoku still suspects us to this day. He sometimes comments on what happened, looking me straight in the eye, saying that whoever did it must have been an extremely silent person." He smiled as he observed you. "But seriously, how is your wound? Have you changed the bandage today? Do you want me to help you out?" He asked worriedly.
"I really didn't remember that today. There's a box of medicines right th-" You tried to stand up abruptly to point out where the small box would be, but the wound throbbed painfully with the sudden movement.
"Don't move, let me take care of it. Don't be stubborn, at least once." He got out of bed and opened the nightstand that was located on other side of the small room, where you would have pointed if you hadn't been stopped by the sudden pain. He found a white wooden box.
He took the small box out of the drawer and settled back on the bed, this time sitting towards you. You stood up a little, this time more carefully. You began to unbutton the white shirt you were wearing, revealing your body. There was a tight bandage that ran between your shoulder and armpit, covering the wound that was located on the upper part of your chest. You were also wearing a black top, protecting your breasts.
You felt slightly embarrassed. It wasn't often that he saw you like this, at least not as adults. During your childhood and puberty, you often took care of each other's wounds, cleaning and even stitching them when necessary. Rosinante was extremely clumsy, he would trip over his own feet and drop everything he touched, but for some reason his hands were steady when it came to putting stitches on a deeper cut. This duality was impressive. You, by the way, were very precise in your aim, known for your cold blood, but when you went to stitch up one of his wounds, seeing the blood running down the open wound would make your hands tremble nervously.
At this moment, he was standing before your fully formed body, a grown woman, no longer a child. You didn't want to be embarrassed, after all, it was supposed to be something professional, now you were two high-ranking adults in the navy. You shouldn't mix things up, but your racing heart and the treacherous blush that was forming on your face were involuntarily contradicting yourself, just like so many other times in his presence. You didn't know when this feeling had started to germinate exactly, nor if it was reciprocal, but you always tried to bury it quickly so you could not see it blossom. Your superior had warned you about these emotions.
"Your dedication must be complete. Don't let yourselves be fooled by relationships during work, it will make you weaker. You will end up making wrong decisions at important moments." She advised wisely.
------
He watched you closely. When you finished revealing your body, he traced in his mind all the small scars that marked your torso, perhaps he knew the story behind almost all of them. For some reason they made you even more beautiful, they framed your body in a uniquely beautiful way.
He swallowed hard, trying to push away those invading and stubborn thoughts. Since the last time you've met, they had been more frequent and difficult to dispel. The most difficult day occurred during the ceremony of promotion to lieutenant commander, when he saw you wearing your new uniform, a well-pressed suit and the large coat that covered your entire body. You always wore your hair tied in a high ponytail, but from that day on you started to wear it loose, as your new rank allowed. Your smile was also looser than usual, it was usually harder to pull off. You walked fearlessly and proudly among your superiors, radiating a dazzling aura.
Inexplicably, for the first time the blond felt nervous when talking to you that day, his legs felt wobbly as you walked together, he stumbled due to the imbalance caused. You didn't notice that he had become even more clumsy in your presence from that day on, he knew the real reason, but he was silently grateful for the reputation of being naturally clumsy.
Later on that day, there would be a celebratory ball during the evening. Sengoku, who has been given the fun task of pairing the young people for a traditional waltz, paired you both to dance. Sengoku knew that you had been friends since childhood, he noticed that you had fiercely protected him from the other boys in the beginning when the young man was still a child adapting to the previously unknown environment.
While talking to the blond earlier that day, still at the ceremony, Sengoku noticed the young man's gaze when he saw his dear friend. He knew that look well, he remembered the old days when the same dazzled glow had been on his own.
"You two would make a beautiful couple." The old man stated.
The blond choked on the drink he was bringing to his mouth. He looked at the old man in fright.
"W-What did you say?" He asked as he wiped the spilled drink off his chin with his own hand.
"You two would make a beautiful couple." He repeated. "You know, young man, I know very well that look in your eyes. I'm just saying that I have no objections, if it's really in your interest to pursue this. I'm not usually in favor, honestly, but as long as it doesn't get in the way of both of your performances, I have nothing to stop you. With Tsuru it would be more complicated, she's much more strict about it, but if it was really in your interest, I could try to talk her in." He said as he sipped some of his drink in a relaxed manner.
The young man quickly shoved the rest of the liquid from the glass he was holding into his mouth, trying to reflect a little on the situation and clear his mind.
On the night of the ball, you wore a long pearly pink gown made of satin fabric that hugged your body in a slightly tighter way. The model left your shoulders and cleavage exposed, and it didn't have a very deep neckline, but it invited imagination. You weren't used to this type of dress and felt a little uncomfortable, but you risked wearing simpler makeup, red lips and rosy cheeks. You didn't know how to walk in heels, so you took advantage of the long dress and opted for a pair of low-heeled nude-toned shoes. You wore your hair down again.
Rosinante wore a black suit, a white shirt and a dark vest, a wine-red tie with a knot that you had tied, he wore a pair of very well-polished shoes, and his golden hair slicked back.
That night you danced the traditional waltz of the promoted. The orchestra of the ball accompanied your steps throughout the night.
As they began the waltz, your eyes met, your hands intertwined. The man prayed that he wouldn't step on your foot or ruin that sublime moment. He had always found you beautiful, in an innocent way. But that night you were more than stunning. He would remember that dance with you in all his dreams, he would keep that moment deep in his memory. Your sweet aroma, your gentle warmth, your charming smile. Every detail was recorded. It was unforgettable. He could no longer see you with an innocent gaze.
------
The blond opened the small box and found gauze, alcohol, some medicine, and healing ointment. That would be enough. He got considerably closer, reducing the small distance that separated you. He asked permission with his eyes to undo the old bandage. You nodded. With his fingers a little hesitant, he touched the old gauze and began to undo the bandage. When he finished, he saw the wound. The stitches were very well done and there was no secretion. He could see the burn around the wound because of the short distance where the shot had occurred, but it wasn't very reddish, showing that there was no infection, a great sign for a good recovery. He took some clean gauze, soaked the cloth in alcohol, and began to clean the wound gently. He saw that your face had contorted slightly, you were in pain, he needed to distract you.
"It looks like the wound is healing very well. You'll be able to go back to the field soon." He reassured her as he cleaned it.
"Good thing, cause I hate doing nothing. I'd have to find a way to get back." You complained.
"Don't tell me, I know how stubborn you are." He snickered
The alcohol in contact with the fresh wound still caused a sharp pain, but the man's gentle fingers made you feel a duality of sensations. Feeling the blond's scent up close, an aroma of a woody cologne mixed with cigarettes, seeing up close his dark brown eyes framed by his light eyelashes, his gaze focused on the careful task, his warm breath sweetly kissing your skin. The young man bit his lower lip lightly as if the act increased his precision. It was strange, but this proximity hypnotized you, you wanted to stay there longer even with the liquid burning you when it came into contact with the wound.
"Did the bullet go through or lodge itself?" The blond asked as he finished.
"It went through, thanks to that I didn't stay long in the infirmary." You confirmed.
"Okay, I'll take care of your back too then." He concluded.
You adjusted yourself so your back was exposed. It was a smaller wound than the other one, also with stitches and in the same condition. He carefully moved the strands of your hair away from the area. He did the same procedure with the gauze and started cleaning again.
"Look, I came here worried about you. I prepared some pasta with your favorite sauce. I got the recipe from another commander's girlfriend. I wanted to see how you were doing, but I didn't came just for that. I needed to talk to you in person." He finished the task, and touched your back to signal that he were done.
You turned around a little apprehensively, looking at each other with some invisible expectation.
"Well, I wanted to tell you in person that I'm going out for a while on a solo mission." The young man concluded.
"Solo? It's pretty hard to get that approved. Isn't it too dangerous? Do you want me to go with you?" You asked worriedly.
"No, it's better not to, I need to be alone. I've already talked to Sengoku, everything is set. I'll be leaving soon. But it'll probably be quite long, it could last a few years. I can't give you too many details, you know..." He said as he took the ointment and started to apply it to the frontal wound.
"Years? Wow. How did they approve that?" You asked in disbelief.
Your heart tightened violently in your chest, a lump in your throat began to form. Years. You had gone a few weeks without seeing each other, gradually getting used to it. But years, just like that, all of a sudden. You couldn't hide your disconcerted look. He noticed. Your reaction broke the man's heart, he didn't want to be away for so long either, but he knew how important it was. It was something only he could do, no one else. He had to.
"But I think I'll be able to write to you from time to time, maybe even call." He reassured you as he tried to reach the other side of the wound to apply the ointment, without having you to turn around again.
"I don't know if you'll be able to live without me for so long." You joked to try to dispel the melancholy.
"You know I really can't." He joked back, putting the ointment back into the box and taking the fresh gauze.
He unrolled the new gauze and began to redo the bandage. Now he was even closer. He applied the gauze so that it was not too tight, but firm enough to stay in place. He was done.
"Thank you." You smiled.
You raised your hand to the man's face, an involuntary movement. Your hand cradled the blond's face, your thumb running through the splashes of sauce with the intention of cleaning them and exploring every detail of his features. You were completely immersed in the moment. You didn't want to fight to get out, you wanted to surrender, to drown into the unknown depths, you wanted to fill your lungs with those feelings that until then had been secretly denied. The young man accepted the affectionate gesture, took the hand that was touching his face and gently kissed your knuckles. You exchanged affectionated looks that spoke more than words that you were too afraid to pronunciate. You didn't need to.
"Promise you'll write?" You whispered breaking the silence.
"Pinky promise." He said, smiling gently.
The blond stood up, picked up the small box and put it back where it was before, took off the apron he was wearing and placed it on the same nightstand. You settled yourself in the bed, lying down again. You gestured for him to lie down on the small bed with you. He nodded, smiling, and settled himself down next to you. The bed wasn't very large, it barely fit both of you, a good excuse to snuggle closer to him. You chuckled when you realized that his feet were sticking out of the bed. He stroked your head affectionately, while you traced his chest, exploring it delicately.
"Aren't you going to tell me?" He asked in a whisper.
"Tell you what?" You asked, confused.
"What really happened the day you got injured. What went through your head. It happened in a strange way, not usual for you." He pointed out.
Your fingers stopped and rested on the man's chest. You became thoughtful.
"I can't explain it." You murmured.
"If you want, you can try. I'll try to figure you out" He suggested.
"I think the pressure of trying to be perfect got to my head. I've been feeling eyes watching me, voices whispering things, it's smothering me. I've always tried to ignore it and stay strong, do what I have to do. But something strange happened that day, I saw something that triggered me and I felt like a little animal in trouble that froze in the middle of danger." You explained heavily. "I've always heard from the other recruits that I was lucky to have the support of Tsuru and the other superiors, but sometimes I don't know if it's luck or punishment. When I get to my quarters on the ship at night, I can't sleep. I start studying some upcoming operations and I'm afraid... Actually, I'm terrified. Terrified of making a mistake. And this nightmare has finally came true." You crumbled with tears in your eyes.
The young man hugged you tighter, snuggling you closer.
"I don't know that feeling, because you know how I am. I make mistakes all the time. I think you should allow yourself to make some mistakes more often, don't be so hard on yourself. Just look at the report room. There are reports from everyone there, no one has a completely clean record. And when you make a mistake, it's okay to be sad. Get up and try to do the right thing." He advised as he placed a gentle kiss on your head.
You buried your face in the giant's chest, as if you wanted to melt into it and disappear there. But the weight of what had happened had eased even more after talking about it. Rosinante had this power over you, he knew you very well. He removed the thorns gently and painlessly. To the world you kept a fearless frown regardless of the situation, to him you could admit that it hurt, you could be soft. He hadn't just re-bandaged you, he was now sewing stitches into uncertainties and fears that were tearing your heart apart. You began to feel a heat rising in your cheeks when you thought about it.
"When I get back…" He sighed nervously, as if he was gathering the courage to say something. "I'll probably take some time off work, what do you think about us traveling somewhere together?" He suggested with a blush on his face.
"Are you asking me to a future date, which I don't know how many years, when you finally get back from a super secret mission that I have no information about?" You grinned, teasing the blond.
"Not exacl-... Right. Yes, I am." He admitted in defeat, sighing again in relief.
"Good, because I'm already planning on what I'm going to wear." You snickered
You both laughed. You thought for a second that maybe you should finally confess your feelings before he left on his mission. You thought it best not to, it wouldn't be fair. You would anxiously await his return, you would allow yourself to not be perfect, you would talk to Tsuru and Sengoku, you would find a way to make it right. It was decided, you would save it for a future moment. Now you just planned to get drunk on his tender presence, his welcoming smell, his gentle warmth.
In that small room you both fell asleep without even realizing it, while sharing sweet nothings until you were lulled together to the waltz of Morpheus.