Chapter Text
Soft.
Soft wasn't the word she'd ever associate with him. It was that type of word reserved for delicate and fleeting things. Or when the wind blows her hair gently, caressing her face. Not someone like him, never.
So damn soft.
His face and peaceful features were so quiet and unmoving in his slumber. His hair, a wild green but actually fluffy. She chuckled, imagining how he’d scowl at her if she told him that.“I’m not fluffy, woman; don’t be stupid,” was what he’d say. It was true; he wasn’t. Everything about him was sharp, like the edge of a sword.
She ran her hands through some rebellious locks, and such a soothing gesture was able to steady her beating heart.
So many things are about to happen in a moment or two, but this is where I want to be before it all goes to hell.
Her hand faltered, and she swallowed hard. The despair came back and came back hard. There was a storm happening inside of her.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and focused on the softness in her hands. Roronoa was sound asleep in the middle of the deck; the party had died long before dawn. Pirates and Marines scattered on the floor of Sunny, all passed out from celebrating so much.
But not her.
She spent the whole ceasefire party awake and alive, more alive than she had ever felt. Sparks of their joy ran through her veins, numbing her senses and making her believe that she could belong there. So she laughed, laughed until her stomach hurt, and danced, danced until she couldn't stand anymore.
She lived and felt alive before the end of her days arrived.
But there was one thing she wanted to do before it all came to an end.
Tashigi longed for him the whole night, keeping an eye on him, watching his every move, desperately looking for a way to make amends. Their eyes crossed many times, but they weren't on the best of terms.
They never have, have they?
She was aware of that; she knew their worlds were too different, always clashing and mixing, but never the same. She knew the nature of their relationship was complicated, and she never tried to make it easy, no. But that night, she had tried to raise the white flag; it was a ceasefire after all.
However, the arch of his brow had told her he wasn't having that, wasn’t letting his guard down, she wasn't interrupting his peace that night.
Tashigi let go of his hair and embraced herself, holding her legs tighter, trying to press herself more and more so another pain could overcome the one blooming in her chest.
They were too divergent. She has always known; he always reminded her of that.
Will you miss me, though?
She looked around, her bangs covering most of her sight, but she couldn’t mind blowing them off her face. There was a tangled mess before her, his Captain so drunk, attached in three twists around her Vice-Admiral arm. Their medic sleeping on top of Smoker’s chest, and their sharpshooter and navigator resting close to the rubber-boy, warming off his heat. They looked peaceful and very much drunk, obviously—her superior would never allow that to happen in normal conditions.
Tashigi smiled slightly; the sight was worthy of a photograph, perfect for remembering good times. She would keep that in her mind, only to herself, like a small secret.
It was almost morning; she could see the sky turning less heavy, and soon the sun would be showing up. Maybe her last sunrise; who knows.
She still had time—a few minutes, perhaps. A surge of boldness and courage and maybe despair all mixed together was enough to make her decide to whisper things to the morning air, things she would never tell him face to face. Or anyone. Things the Navy would frame her for, just as they were doing now. Things the Navy would take her freedom for—hers and his. But truth be told, she has never been free, has she?
Getting up and climbing to the upper deck, she could see everything below and the vastness of the sea. She felt so small but so big at the same time—a small dot in the middle of that huge horizon. The breeze was playing with her hair, now short, still getting in her sight, mixing with the tears that started to fall. It was a beautiful sight indeed. Soon, the sky would be painted orange, and it would be another day. But not for her.
The small tone dial was still heavy in her pocket, gifted to her by the cold-blooded chief of Cypher Pol 0 as what he called an act of mercy. She never imagined the merciless could feel anything. He said it was supposed to be her last words, her last mark on this world, and she could give it to anyone.
A gift. He had called it a gift.
But there was a sadistic grin on his face when he uttered those words three days ago.
She racked her brain, thinking of who she could give this to, but all she could think of was how it was too much of a bad memento. Besides, who else would she give that to, considering she was by herself in this huge and wide world? The one person she'd love to leave some kind words for was exactly the one who will be hanging by the gallows beside her, so who else?
She didn't know, at least until a few moments ago. So, staring at him, she grabbed the tone dial, clicked, and the words flooded like untamed waters. And it felt good; she felt clean. It wasn't the closure she was seeking, but her spirit renewed, and everything felt different somehow, like a veil had been lifted from her sight. With one last deep breath, she clicked again and simply stared at it for a while.
The truth was that she wanted to give it to him. She wanted him to hear her last words. But in the end decided against it. What would that change?
So without looking back, she threw it into the waters and went down the stairs to reach him one last time.
Roronoa was still in the same spot, sleeping like a rock. Then she lay down beside him, and he was so close, she could easily close the gap. She could. She shouldn't, though.
It would be the last time she would see him, so Tashigi did her best to commit the features of the greatest swordsman to memory. Raising her hand to brush his hair once again and resting her forehead against his lightly, she thanked him. For anything, for everything. Except for the harsh words, ones that have always stung, piercing her heart from start to finish.
Will you miss me? Lie to me if you don't.
Her eyes were closed, but her senses were working perfectly fine, so she felt when someone approached. She didn't move, however.
"It's time, girl."
Such finality in her superior's voice, still raspy from sleep but certain. He wasn't just stating a fact; he was also forcing her to prepare herself. Tashigi frowned wistfully and placed a faint kiss on Roronoa's forehead.
"Please, become the greatest swordsman," she whispered.
It wasn't a proper goodbye, but it was the best she could do. Letting him go was hard, but the extended hand of Smoker gave her enough strength to take the next step. It was the end indeed.
Tashigi took it, getting up and looking around her, saying goodbye to everything. The sun was almost rising; she could see the rose-pink light of dawn starting to spread and paint the horizon. She smiled and took a deep breath of fresh air, stretching her arms wide open, the breeze welcoming her, then turned her back and walked in the direction of the harbour.
Such a beautiful day to die.