It was after the festivities. Well, there were still sounds of voices and laughing echoing through the air. Understandably, some people were too excited to end the celebrations. The raid on the Beast Pirates was successful in the end, and the long subjugated population of Wano were finally free from Kaido’s grip, and Orochi’s reign.

He already had it stashed away, retrieved sometime during the festivities he slipped way to the Punk Victoria and slipped it into his cabin. It’s not something he was used to. Commissioning a craftsman, or giving a gift. But he had to. The man deserved it. Something—anything, to show his appreciation for his loyalty. It was his fault. The reason his laugh, which the Killer hated so much, rang through the air. Would this really be a show of appreciation—or something that reminded him of the reason he could no longer swim? Maybe it was better if he didn’t give it to him. He thumbed at the gears in his metal arm while he argued with himself.

It would be a waste, he decided, not to give it to him. A reason he used to convince himself that he had no choice. He found Killer by himself, drinking some sake given to him by one of the residents. How could someone look so sad behind a mask? He shook his head. No, best not to think about it too much or he wouldn’t be able to find the nerve. He was already out of his element.

He approached Killer, striking up some general conversation before asking him to come back to the ship. Using some excuse about wanting to get ahead and making sure things were ready for them to leave the following morning. Of course, the blonde followed him without question—happy to help his captain prepare for their departure regardless of circumstance.

Kid, of course, acts as if they are actually doing routine inspections. They go about their normal routine, making sure everything is up to par, noting anything that may need attention before they leave—taking note of their current stock, etc.. When they’re done is when Kid finally approaches him.

“Here,” he says gruffly, looking off to the horizon as he shoves a mass of fabric at Killer.

Killer takes the cloth from Kid’s hands, delicately unfurling it as he raises it in front of him—effectively creating a wall between the two men. It’s beautiful. The fabric is blue. It’s a shade just off from the shirt he normally wears, likely a custom made dye from the makers. White designs interlace themselves over the fabric, a mosaic of skulls, blades, ocean waves, and decorative lines. Tasteful. The kind of design you have to really pay attention to before you can fully appreciate the representations.

“Captain…?” Killer trails off, unsure of how to respond to this uncharacteristic gesture.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Kid huffs.

“Thank you.” The blonde’s response is simple. No frills. The kind Kid can handle.

Kid manages to brush it off. It was nothing. Just a souvenir from somewhere on their travels. A simple thank you.

“Don’t get used to it.”

He walks away from Killer, avoiding further conversation. Though, that doesn’t stop him from catching a glance as blonde holds the kimono up to his large frame. His large hands holding the delicate fabric up to his scarred body like a balm to Kid’s soul. He could almost see the expression hidden behind the blue and white mask—matching so perfectly with the loose fabric.

The only shame in it matching so well was how much better it would look against his eyes.