aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless

Before you could register what was happening, you were flung behind Mizu, teeth bared and with wild eyes as she unsheathed her sword. You hit the soft snowy ground, looking up to see Mizu standing between you and Ringo, the kindly man who’d been following you since Kyoto.

“You move quietly for someone so large,” Mizu said, studying the harmless stalker before her.

Ringo smiled innocently. “I’m naturally stealthy!”

“Mizu,” you groaned, feeling the soaked, uncomfortable fabric of your kimono touching your previously dry skin. “Next time, can you give me a warning before you knock me down? Even a grunt would be fine.”

Mizu clicked her sword base into its case, muttering an apology as she grasped your forearm and pulled you back onto your feet. You did your best to brush any remaining snow off your clothes, shuddering at the goosebumps and freezing droplets that clung to your legs. Mizu trekked forward, keeping her head down and pushing past the man who didn’t seem to mind her obvious distaste or her aloof bluntness.

“Well, maybe not naturally,” he continued, following you and Mizu, “my father would beat me if I ever made noise in the noodle shop. I learn to be quiet, like a ninja.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near us,” Mizu hissed, stepping past him with ease. “Stay away.”

“Stay away, Ringo,” he corrected.

“I don’t care.”

“I think what Mizu's trying to say, Ringo,” you interrupted, giving him a polite smile, “is that the path of a samurai can be quite dangerous. It’s not a clean or easy path, you have to be strong in both body and mind.”

“Not to worry! I am strong—and useful!” Ringo snagged an umbrella from his back, popping it open to cover Mizu and young. “See?”

Mizu stepped through a split tree, looking rather unimpressed. Her aggravation only grew with Ringo’s constant barrage of questions regarding her bloodline.

“I heard white people's skin burns off in the sun.”

“Is it true blue eyes can see in the dark?”

“Oh, and is it true white people drink milk from their animals?”

Mizu only growled in response, giving you a sharp look and rapidly changing paths—away from Ringo, who once again easily caught up to the both of you.

“I know why you think you don't want me around, but you can trust me!” Ringo insisted, pouting like a sad puppy. “I'd never tell your secret. Not ever. Not if someone bit off my skin bite by bite or even if they made me eat eggplant!”

He smiled, skipping up to Mizu, “I'd never ever, ever, ever tell anyone that you're a gi—”

A sickening, effortless swing cut between the two, slicing a growing tree across the side, the upper half falling helplessly to the ground. Mizu’s feats of strength weren’t new to you, the times you’d seen her training made you grateful she wasn’t your enemy, but you’d never seen anything on this level. All you could do was stand off to the side and watch Mizu’s rage flare up at Ringo’s unending persistence.

“If I see you again, I will kill you, and never think of you again,” she hissed, voice low and callous.

She didn’t wait for a response, his fearful expression clearly enough for her. Sheathing her sword, Mizu walked down into the sparse forest she’d been forced to walk into on account of Ringo’s meddling. You frowned upon seeing his face, hurt and shock painted into his plump cheeks and bright eyes, changing from a sad puppy to a kicked-and-pummeled puppy.

“I’m sorry, Ringo,” you said as softly as possible, “but Mizu’s… not keen on making friends. At least not now. Maybe you can find a different master? One who's more suited to the art of teaching.”

The corners of his mouth twinged upwards, giving you a glimpse of the bubbly young man who served you soba a couple days ago. You returned the smile before running after Mizu, attempting to catch up to the spindly young samurai with legs longer than a chicken—she really hated when you first told her that.

“Wait up, Mizu!” you whined, stepping through deeper and deeper patches of snow. “If you lose me now, who will sew up your wounds?”

“I sewed my wounds before you.”

“Who will make you tea when you think you’re getting sick?”

“I know how to make tea.”

“Who will make us warm, wonderful noodles on cold, winter mornings?”

“No one; we’ve never made noodles.”

“Exactly!” you yelled, hiking your kimono up to avoid wetting it further. “And whose fault is that?”

She grumbled, “I will not let a stumbling fool interfere on my journey,”

“Because he knows your secret? I know it too! He could be nice to have around, Mizu,” you huff, finally catching up to her.

“You—are an exception,” she muttered, ducking under a tree branch. “By keeping it from you, there is a chance I could bleed out.”

“I only know because you were bleeding out,” you snorted. “You would have kept it to the grave if you could have.”

She didn’t say anything more, continuing the travel in silence as you passed by steep mountain ranges, ridges decorated with slopes of snow and layered trees becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You were so damn sick of all this snow. Of walking in it, feeling it scorch your already freezing skin, of just looking at it. But it would be spring—sooner or later, at least. Maybe another month or two of seeing all this snow, but you could manage that.

“Hey,” Mizu said, interrupting your thoughts. “You've been helpful, and I appreciate that.”

She didn’t turn around, only continuing her path forward. It made you feel suspicious, like she was expecting you to repay her with a compliment of your own, or maybe make her some soba noodles yourself. Your skill set certainly didn’t reach into that area.

“What’s the catch, Mizu?” you asked, not even trying to hide the obvious suspicion in your voice.

“No catch,” she replied. “I know it’s been tough walking in the cold, so when we get to the next city, we can look for a horse to buy.”

“Really?” You shouted with glee, almost stumbling over yourself in the snow.

“Yes.” Mizu cleared her throat. “We’ll be splitting the cost, though, since you’re the one that wanted it.”

“Fine by me!” you whistled, skipping happily behind Mizu as the towering mountains slowly disappeared behind you, only soft footprints leaving any mark of your presence.

“Come forward. Get in line! No one gets through without a travel pass.”

You rolled your eyes at the guard’s commands, shifting your feet closely behind Mizu. It was your job to keep your head down and cling to Mizu, your oh-so strong and masculine protector. It wasn’t like the guards would ask for a passionate display of affection, right?

“Next. Come on, come on. Let's see your pass.” The line shuffled forward, inching closer to the gate as the next person presented their pass. Every gate was identical to the last, with every soldier being poor enough to accept whatever money Mizu was willing to fork over. It wasn’t just, but it was how people made their living, and how you and Mizu had made it this far.

A loud scuffle near the gate broke through your thoughts, and you peeked over Mizu’s shoulder to see what had happened.

“What is this? A bribe? Are you trying to bribe me?” The guard scoffed. “Arrest and flog him!”

“No, no! Please!” the man cried out as he was dragged away.

You flinched and looked up at Mizu to see her reaction. This was a deviation—not a part of the plan. But Mizu was a planner, right? She could adapt like she always did! Maybe she’d pay a higher sum, leave the line and climb the gate under the cloak of night. A quick glance at Mizu’s side revealed her plan to you.

She was reaching for her sword.

You were so fucked.

“Hey, where's your pass?”

It would only take a single slash from Mizu to end things, so you had to be ready to run after her at a moment’s notice. Mizu was at least three times as fast as you, even while carrying her sword. You could always pretend to not be associated with her, but your chances of survival were much better if—

“Right here!” a hearty voice rang out from the treeline. Simultaneously, you and Mizu turned around to see Ringo stumbling through the line to join the two of you, holding a travel pass between his stumps.

“Travel pass for three. Just me and my apprentices traveling together, like always,” Ringo laughed, mostly to himself, it seemed. “Heading to my buckwheat dealer. Fresh shipment from Horokanai. The best!” Ringo knocked you and Mizu on the back of your heads. “Come on, you two,” he scolded. “I humbly apologize for my apprentices, they’re a bit dim.”

You and Mizu shared a disturbed look.

The guard sighed at the pass, waving his hand before calling out for the next person to approach.

“Useful! I told you,” Ringo insisted as he trailed behind the two of you.

One look at Mizu and you could see the formerly stone-cold resolve on her face crumbling with each word from Ringo. You couldn’t blame her one bit—Ringo’s excitement for life itself would wear even the hardest of samurai down to a pebble. But you were also aware of the dangers that Mizu’s journey carried, and how hard it was to convince her to let you join.

“You will not find what you seek at my side,” she sighed. “I am owed my revenge, and I will have it at any cost. It is not a path of honor nor excitement.”

“A path of pain, dear Ringo.”

“I love revenge!” You bit back a giggle, knowing it was best not to make Mizu any more upset.

“It is a demon's path littered with death,” Mizu spat, spitting venom.

“I'm not afraid.” Ringo said with confidence. “I can train, and I can help you. I'm already the greatest in the world at one thing. What's one more?”

You didn’t know whether to commend him for his bravery, or scold him for his naivety.

“Noodles is not war.”

“My whole life has been a battle.”

Mizu turned to look at you, as if asking for your approval on the matter.

“It’s a lot of walking, Ringo,” you sputtered out, trying to back Mizu up to the best of your ability. “You probably won’t be fighting or anything like that, mostly watching and—”

Ringo practically jumped at your words. “All good craftsmen must watch before they create!” he shouted. “I’ve had plenty of practice in the art of watching.”

This time, it was your turn to look at Mizu. She seemed to be deep in thought, judging by the cute way she was pinching the bridge of her nose. With a heavy sigh and a slump of her shoulders, she turned around and resumed marching along the path.

“I'm an apprentice!” Ringo cheered, scampering to follow you and Mizu. “So, where do we go to get your revenge?”

“A boat,” you sang, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped beside Mizu.

“Ooh! A revenge boat!”

You giggled, trying to hide your face from Mizu. Not only would it be nice to have someone to chat with—at least someone who didn’t have the conversational skills of a beached fish—but you’d also been dreaming of Ringo’s soba since the day you had the pleasure of tasting it. To get meals of that level, every day? You might just get to see a sliver of heaven on your hellish journey.

A small part within you hoped that Mizu felt the same.

When Mizu told you the path to revenge was treacherous, you originally thought she meant that people would be around every corner to stop you, or that every friend was a potential foe.

What you did not expect, however, was to be creeping around a very, very tiny cliffside, during a cold and harsh winter, all while you were slowly suffocated by the falling snow. For someone who paraded around with a ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude, you wished she had more common sense to just find a damn paved road.

“Watch your step,” she muttered ahead.

“Wow, thanks,” you barked back, hugging the side of the mountain like your life depended on it. “I’ll remember to keep that in mind when I slip on the snow and go plummeting to my death!”

You exhaled deeply, trying to focus on the traumatic story that Ringo had been telling for the last eight minutes.

“And boom, there was blood everywhere! And that's why I vowed never to eat eggplant again,” Ringo sighed. “So, tell me about this boat. I've never been on a boat. I wonder if I'll get seasick. I get nauseous in the bath if I slosh too much.”

A sharp yelp and the sound of stones scattering echoed across the mountain wall, and before you had a chance to see what happened, Mizu had already spun around. Her eyes were wide with alert as her hand twitched near her hilt.

Once you turned to face behind you, you witnessed a startled Ringo clinging to the stone wall for dear life. His muscles seemed to relax quickly, and he turned to look at you and Mizu.

“Naturally stealthy,” Ringo smiled, attempting to play off his near-death experience.

Mizu straightened herself. “You don't have to be here, Ringo.”

“And miss you killing Heiji Shindo?” Ringo said with excitement, beaming ear to ear.

“It certainly isn’t as romantic as it sounds, Ringo,” You rubbed the base of your inro. “There’s lots of blood, followed by cleaning, then bandaging, which is then followed by more blood, followed by—”

“I’m not after him,” Mizu interrupted, “but the white man he protects.”

Half-frozen snow crunched beneath your feet as the distance between you and Mizu felt even vaster and colder than before. Mizu rarely felt the need to explain anything to you—or anyone, for that matter—preferring to keep her goals close to her chest. Although you were privy to more information than any person Mizu had ever met with, granted that you were in a position to poke and prod her to learn such things. But her words carried a sense of fanaticism towards her ultimate goal—a reckless, foolish pursuit. And all you could do was watch as she hurtled herself towards a death that she welcomed far too warmly, for as cold as she was.

“He's on an island in the west,” Mizu continued. “By sea, I can be there before dawn and kill him by sunrise.”

“Revenge,” Ringo whispered under his breath.

“Fatalism,” You sighed, jogging over to Mizu as the cliffside shifted from its sharp edge into more stable ground, allowing you to walk directly beside her.

The harsh, gray open space revealed a rather shoddy wooden gate—though calling it a gate was quite a generous title. Even someone Ringo’s size could probably slip through the gaps in its walls. More importantly, however, was the fact that it was completely unguarded.

The three of you took wary glances at the empty watch tower as tiny specks of snow rained down from above, coating the scenery in ever-growing sheets. You may have found it beautiful, if not for the paranoia currently eating away at your chest. The urge to cling to Mizu’s back and use her as a human shield grew with each step forward you took.

But Mizu was clearly unaffected by the unnerving atmosphere, and even Ringo seemed to not care about the lack of human life in what was clearly and obviously a populated town.

“Where is everybody?” Ringo called out, glancing down empty alleys and silent buildings. “Hello?”

Your eye twitched as you bit back a cruel comment, knowing that your words would be too sharp for someone as soft as Ringo to take. You’d wanted to give Ringo the benefit of the doubt, but you were starting to understand why Mizu was so apprehensive about letting him come along. You might have the wisdom to see this as a perilous journey, but Ringo was—

You nearly collided with Mizu’s back, the tip of your nose only centimeters away from the faded navy fabric. The back of her heel was raised slightly, and the point of your foot had slid beneath it. Her hands had reached for her sword before you could even blink, and you were about to scamper backwards, if not for the sight before you.

A man—a drunk, and rather scrawny one at that—stumbled across the streets, staring past all of you and instead at whatever his drunk mind found more interesting.

Ringo was the first to try and speak with the drunkard. “Where did your town go?”

Without another word, the man ran, or more accurately, danced, through an alley. The three of you hurriedly followed as you found yourselves standing in a bustling snowy street, lined with vendors and strings of glowing lanterns.

“We seriously didn’t hear all of this?” You glanced dumbfound at all the festivities before you. “I think you have something you need to work on, Mizu.”

“You didn’t hear it either,” she shot back. “I’ll make sure to say my goodbyes quickly, given that you won’t hear the stampede of horses about to crush us.”

“You’ve seen a stampede of horses?” Ringo looked ecstatic.

“No, Mizu’s just being an ass.” You threw a look towards the swordswoman.

Mizu said nothing in reply, instead choosing to scan the bustling town. You followed her eyes and found what she was staring at—the harbor. You were shocked at how the water remained unfrozen in these freezing conditions. Given the blizzards you and Mizu barely pulled through the last couple of weeks, you figured the waves would be frosted over.

With short strides, Mizu began her march towards the boat. Ringo tried to follow, but was easily distracted by the ongoing festivities, dazzling him with music and dancing. You thought Mizu was being quite generous with Ringo. In the past, she would have just kept walking, leaving you behind and in the dust.

“We're not here for fun,” she grumbled, not bothering to look at Ringo. “We're here for a boat.”

The two of you stood behind Mizu as she propositioned the boat owners—two drunk fishermen who were still sipping on their bottles.

“Sure,” the presumed owner smiled, “I can take you there.”

Mizu sighed, reaching a foot down to the boat. “Thank you.”

The men lurched forward, sticking their hands out and ushering Mizu backwards. You raised an eyebrow, then looked at the other nearby boats. All were tied up, with countless men lounging within. Drinking, of course.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Not now,” the owner insisted. “Tomorrow.”

His companion hiccuped. “Not too early either.”

Mizu scowled, and Ringo shuffled awkwardly. You tucked your hands behind your back, doing your best to look polite.

“Maybe we can try later, Mizu?” you offered.

“We must leave now.”

“During the Hadaka Matsuri?” the man laughed. “Well, then you'll have to swim. Everyone's closed today!”

This time, it was Mizu who glanced around. Not just at the dock and boats, but all around. Every man, woman, and child seemed to be enjoying themself amidst the festival. You knew Mizu wasn’t the type to frolic, especially when there was fun to be had. No, Mizu was Miss All-Serious, and in the world of Miss All Serious, there was no time for—

“Fine. Tomorrow then.”

“Huh?” You blinked. “Really Mizu? We can stay? Like, the whole day?”

Ringo looked happier than you, and the two of you practically danced behind Mizu’s back as she continued conversing with the boat owner.

“We will see you in the morning,” Mizu said curtly, turning away from the sailors.

“Not too early!” the owner called out, laughing with his companion.

You spun with a pep in your step, giggling as the snow fell on you. It was only once you collided directly with Ringo, who you swore was still behind you, that your celebration ended.

“Sorry!” he apologized, reaching out a sleeve to help you up. “Stealthy!”

“You do that a lot,” Mizu remarked, raising a thin eyebrow as you wiped the collected snow off your kimono.

“Don't worry about us, Mizu.” You searched the crowds, scanning the various stalls and attractions that surrounded you. “Plenty to do, lots to see! Go off and train or whatever it is you need to do, Ringo and I can entertain ourselves in the meantime. Right, Ringo?”

Ringo’s eyes paced frantically between you and Mizu as the new, samurai duties he embraced in his soul fought against the fun within his heart. You could see the fire in him blazing brilliantly to remain diligent in the vows he swore to Mizu—to uphold the will and tenants of what it meant to be a samurai.

Before Ringo could make a choice, Mizu bent down in front of the man, reaching her hands around his ankle as she tied a small silver bell around the cuff of his pant leg.

"You are never to take that off." She turned to face you, lifting her finger to point at one of the towering mountains that surrounded this town. "I'll set up camp on the eastern cliffs—I'm going to use this time for training."

You glanced in the direction, peering further and further up towards the lofty summit enveloped by a growing layer of slowly freezing snow. It was an impressive sight to behold, but the height was obviously far too much for a person to traverse by foot. With a sigh, you pinched some money from your pouch and held it out towards Mizu.

"Buy a cheap one, and don't come back too late." You frowned at all the empty shops, closed and boarded for the festivities today.

No restocking to be done here. The contents of your inro wasn't running low by any means, but it was always better to remain fully equipped and prepared.

Mizu's hand briefly rested atop your own before she gently slid the money away. "I promise we'll have enough for another horse." She turned towards Ringo. "You. You should stay here and have fun. Forever, even. There's no shame in making a home here and keeping your life."

"An apprentice would never leave his master's side!" You watched as Ringo's eyes wandered to the celebrations that surrounded him. "But maybe, just a little fun…then tomorrow…"

The plump chef waltzed into the crowd, joining the villagers and their boisterous activities while you and Mizu stood amidst crowded stalls and enthusiastic townspeople. You were glad Ringo had begun following the two of you in private. Mizu was smart enough to remain subtle—and when she wasn't, she was smart enough to tie off any and all loose ends—which allowed the two of you to move fairly freely across the land. But you were perturbed by the thought of what could potentially happen to happy-go-lucky Ringo, who had never taken a life before, much less use a weapon with as wide of a reach as a katana.

But you were smart enough to know that Mizu had no actual plans to train Ringo, and would be trying to ditch the poor man as soon as she could. You hoped he would be smart enough to take her advice and start a life, maybe even a family, in this town. Its people seemed nice enough, at least.

Unfortunately, you knew Ringo would never take such an inglorious opportunity. Not with a master as skilled as Mizu was.

Even worse, you were starting to think her prideful nature was growing on him.

"I think I've got a blister, Mizu," you groaned, hurriedly trudging behind Mizu, who refused to break his stride. "Can we stop so I can wrap my foot?"

You watched Mizu's shoulders slowly rise, followed by a loud exhale. Although you hadn't been traveling with him for too long, you'd learned this was his way of saying, Alright, but make it quick, I don't like waiting!

It was also his way of saying, Shut up, you're annoying, and, Why did I bring someone like you along? You often wished he'd be more expressive, but broaching the subject would likely result in the same nonverbal display as always.

A nearby rock provided you an uncomfortable seat to rest on while you removed your sandal and sock. Despite its lack of cushioning, the summer sun kept the stone pleasantly warm—a comfort you rarely received ever since you began following the samurai.

Luckily, the blister hadn't torn while you were walking, lowering the overall risk of infection that you had been worried about. You tightly wound your foot—using less fabric than you would have preferred, on account of having a patient who was at risk of bleeding to death after every potential encounter—tapping it gently against the side of the rock to ensure there wouldn't be too much pressure as you walked.

"Need me to look at anything? You arms, your shoulder?" Your tongue clicked flatly at the last word, gingerly slipping your sock back onto your foot. Judging by his nettled eyebrows, pinched together like two untimely bolts of lightning, Mizu clearly didn't appreciate your offer of aid.

You slid back into your sandal. "Before you puff your shoulders at me," you accused, "there may come a time where you're laid out on the ground like a dying fish, sputtering air you don't have and leaking blood you can't afford to lose. And I'll be there, throwing my supplies at your convulsing body because you made it very clear that you don't like to be touched."

Mizu's face remained as frigid as ice, but maybe it was your complaints, or perhaps the sun baking down on the both of you, that you saw a small pearl of sweat forming on his temple.

"So while you're lying down on that sandy beach, or maybe the edge of a cliff, or even right damn here, don't try to complain to me about how I didn't help!"

You threw your hand in his direction, indignantly pointing a finger right at his chest. A warm, forceful hand intercepted your own, lightly squeezing your four remaining fingers into a ball.

Seems like it was the sun after all, you thought to yourself, preparing for the man to cut you down for your impropriety. But all you heard from Mizu was a sigh, and the grip on your hand fell away back to him as he tucked his arms over his chest.

"We can talk about this later tonight," he finally said.

You were expecting at least some anger to still be present in Mizu's voice, but his tone and body language seemingly betrayed your thoughts. You weren't an expert on body language, nor were you accustomed to men feeling anything but horny, angry, impatient, or the most common emotion of all: drunk.

"Alright, fine. Later tonight." You mirrored Mizu's posture, crossing your arms. "Better get a move on then, samurai, if you wanna get somewhere bug-free."

You watched his head twitch and shoulders rise as a pointed breath expelled itself from deep within his chest. It was as if he was saying, You were the one that wanted to stop first, idiot!

Maybe men were easier to read than you thought.

"Why do they sell horses today, but not a fucking boat?" you grumbled, sitting atop your pleasantly warm steed.

The festivities left you bored out of your mind, leaving you to prowl the various food stands and stalls set up along the streets. It was nice to have a warm, delicious meal—something you hadn't had since visiting Ringo's original shop. The Shindo Dojo clearly just ate to survive, or maybe they just hated you and Mizu. Perhaps both were true.

Instinct and preservation demanded and gnawed at you to scarf down your food, but you had enough self control to savor each and every noodle. It was a savory, sweet pork flavor that hit every sweet spot you had, and it truly took everything within you to not reach for Ringo's portion.

The growing positive emotions you had towards the jubilant celebration was cut short the moment everyone around you began stripping completely naked. You would have screamed if it was only one person, but watching the entire village divest themselves so hurriedly left your jaw hanging.

You grabbed Ringo, who looked way too excited for your liking. "I'm gonna go buy a horse and see how Mizu's doing. I hope you, uh, have fun?"

Ringo beamed heartily and began disrobing himself, which you took at a great cue to begin your hasty retreat.

The horse wasn't particularly fast—not that you were complaining, of course. When you pay half of what a good horse costs, you should be happy to get anything. It wasn't like you had anywhere to urgently be anyways, only somewhere to urgently escape.

"I would have had grabbed Mizu a bowl of the good stuff, horsie," you sighed, stretching your neck. "If only everyone had kept their clothes on, she could have had a taste of pure flavor gold."

She'll forgive me. You began humming a tune. Classic, forgiving Mizu is happy enough with whatever she has available.

As your horse galloped further up the mountain, you began wishing you left the town earlier. Darker and darker hues began creeping over the distant waters as the sun slunk closer and closer to the awaiting waves, preparing to engulf the daylight in but a few more hours. You hadn't meant to leave Mizu alone for so long, though you doubt Mizu cared that much. Training is good for the mind, she always said.

You weren't expecting to be faced with an empty cliff.

She must have went further back, your inner voice insisted as you dismounted your horse. It's far too empty up here, she could have slipped off the cliff if she wasn't careful. She's further back, practicing her swings on weaker trees.

Slipping, weaker trees? Are you kidding? A voice deeper within your mind scoffed. Where's her horse? Where's the evidence? We would have seen her as we climbed these heights!

You clutched your head. In anger? Or maybe it was sadness? Your mind felt jumbled and your throat felt tight—maybe it was something in the noodles, or the thinner air up on the mountain that was causing such a heavy weight to sit on your chest.

Stumbling closer to a lone tree, you braced yourself against its thin trunk. Your legs felt weak, and all you wanted to do was sit and think, but you weren't able to do either of those comfortably right now.

You ran your hand against the bark, letting your nails trace the bumps and deep-set grooves that had grown and lived for years on the tree. Inhaling, you trailed the various marks until you felt your entire nail slide into the tree, a slit too thin for your entire finger to enter. You turned to look, only to see no visible mark, yet were able to run your fingernail down more than a couple inches. The other side of the tree had a similar phenomenon directly across from the first—a long sliver, a cut, that perforated the tree.

Like a sword.

You scrambled to the cliff's brink, falling and crawling on your knees as you carelessly peered over the edge. Three bodies were thrown carelessly across the cliffside, blood splattered across the rocks and dripping down the sides. All three were dead, judging by their disjointed and partially broken bodies, likely from the fall they took.

Your eyes darted across each and every rock, fruitlessly attempting to pick out that navy shade from the surrounding gray. Down, way further down—the shoreline, were two figures. You could barely make them out as humans, only the glint of their swords confirmed your suspicions. When had you started hyperventilating? You needed to calm down, scream out Mizu's name, but that tightness in your throat had yet to subside, and your breathing kept coming out so damn shallow.

The quiet sounds of your horse broke through the hollow winds of the mountain, and you raced over to ascend your steed. Branches whipped around, forcing you to duck your head to avoid them, relying on your horse to avoid the countless trees and rocks that stood in your way. You held the reins tightly, barely able to feel the leather bite into your palms as you futilely focused on fixing your breathing.

All you could hear was your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump, thump, thump almost perfectly matching the thundering hoofbeats of your horse as it descended the mountain at top speeds. It was four against one—was—now it's one on one.

Mizu's won plenty before. One on ones. Two on ones. Hundreds on one, you told yourself.

But it was normally Mizu who started the fights, or fools she was fighting against—like in Shindo Dojo. This was only four men, and Shindo Dojo was about eight times that many. But Mizu wasn't normally ambushed, and she wasn't normally injured, either. This fight was different, someone wanted Mizu dead.

It took you far longer than you wanted to get back down the mountain.

A horse voice, so, so far away. "Then take it," was all you heard as you reached the rocky shore, tides crashing against rough slabs and dragging gravel as the water rescinded back to its basin.

You practically leaped off your horse, just in time to see Mizu's body fall over, sword in hand. Standing in front of her body was a man—a familiar green that you could recognize, even as far away as you were.

That loser from Shindo Dojo.

With an energy you didn't understand, you charged towards the two. The cold, wet slate below your feet feared your emotions, wisely choosing to aid your steps rather than trip you up. Your intention was to tackle the man—Taizou, or Taishi, or whatever the fuck his shitty name was. But before you could get even an arm's reach from the man, you heard a battle cry from behind him, watching as Ringo leapt forward to tackle him.

The scream you wanted to unleash at the cliff finally ripped itself from your throat, although it came out as a mangled cry of Mizu's name. You could feel your chest heaving, eyes growing wet as small beads collected on your waterline. The longer you looked at Mizu's injuries, the larger the tears grew, washing down your face as you assessed the damage they'd been able to do to her.

"—not me! The Fangs!" You finally heard the man speak, turning your head to look at him, pinned down beneath Ringo like a pathetic worm.

Giving him a small amount of credence, you let your eyes wash over the scene before you, quickly landing on the nearby corpse of a somewhat armored man, a broken sword fallen beside him. While you weren't able to see much from above earlier, you could at least confirm that he wore the same clothing as the other bodies you managed to spot laying among the towering rocks.

Ringo, abandoning his grasp on the other samurai, rushed over to the two of you.

"Master, no," he croaked, reaching down to pick Mizu up. As he did, her sword slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground.

You immediately lunged for it, cradling the blade in you arms. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the man stepping towards Mizu.

"Don't touch him!" you barked, watching his body grow with hesitancy.

Just as you and Ringo began to step away, the bastard spoke again.

"There's a shrine," he began, "up the mountain."

"He'll be safe there."

Toothbrush in hand, you strutted out of the bathroom and opened the blinds, letting the blinding light burn your retinas and ensure you would need some form of corrective surgery to heal this scalding damage. “On second thought,” you muttered, blinking slowly as your eyes adjusted to the light, “I think I’ll be okay.”

You checked the time on your phone to ensure you’d be brushing for precisely two minutes and began cleaning your pearly whites, pacing around the dorm in your flip flops impatiently.

The room was all but silent except for the quiet buzzing of your toothbrush, which went well with the occasional snore coming from the top bunk of Nami and Vivi’s bed. Oh, shit. “N’mi?!” you spluttered out from behind your toothbrush, climbing up the ladder and using your free hand to shake her body. 

All you got in return was a groan as Nami turned her body away from you, curling deeper into her blankets. Her silk sleeping mask remained snug over her eyes, rendering the sun unable to awaken her from her slumber. 

Of course, the fact that she clearly forgot to set an alarm didn't help. Why didn't she wake up to yours either? Why did you have to be the one to rouse Miss “Never-Disrupt-My-Slumber"?

"Nami,” you whispered, carefully poking her freckled arm with the tip of your finger, “it's time to wake up…”

Another groan.

“Please wake up, Nami,” you begged, speaking just a hair louder. “We've both got classes and still need to eat breakfast, and if I don't do this now, I know I'll hear about it later.”

“‘m not gonna do it…” Nami snored, “I don’ wanna do it…”

In a fit of frustration mixed with partial desperation, you began rattling the top bunk with increasing fervor, praying that she wouldn't mistake the vibrations as a nice massage.

A sharp gasp from Nami made your heart soar with glee as the ginger soared straight out of her bed, the sleeping mask still covering her eyes.

"What the fuck, ____!” Nami hissed, yanking the silken eye cover over her head. “I swear, you better have—”

“It's eight o’clock, Nami.”

The two of you stared at each other for a solid ten seconds as Nami registered your words, a face of panic swiftly overtaking her momentary anger as she leaped off the bed and beelined for the bathroom. “Oh fuck! I am so fucking fucked right now!” Nami screamed from behind the bathroom door. You could hear the cacophony of bottles flying and electronics being plugged in as Nami was clearly rushing to get ready.

“Your class is at ten, right, Nam?” you called out to her as you rustled through her closet. “You've still got a whole hour, plus some change. Want me to grab you anything to wear?”

“Orange jersey—it's the one with the blue print on it—lightwash denim shorts, and the toffee sandals on the far left of the closet!” Nami yelled back as you searched through her expansive wardrobe to complete the noble quest you've taken upon your oh-so caring shoulders.

“Got it on the bed for you, Nam,” you said, fumbling through the closet until you found what she had asked for.

“Thank you, thank you, thank—hey, have you seen my Dolce Light Blue perfume—”

“Top shelf in the cabinet, behind the deodorant.” You flopped onto the bean bag, grabbing your phone to doomscroll while Nami finished gussying up. Several new messages caught your eye as you unlocked your phone—though “several” was the understatement of the century.

| Straw Hat: Hi | Straw Hat: Hi | Straw Hat: Hi | Straw Hat: Hi | Straw Hat: Attachment (1) Image | Straw Hat: Oops | Straw Hat: Hi | Straw Hat: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Read 8:28 AM

The image Luffy had sent was an extreme close-up of his face, which—even if he hadn't sent the follow-up message—you would have immediately clocked as Luffy accidentally opening his camera and taking an extremely unflattering selfie. His final message to you included some sort of laser effect attached to it, making your phone glow and buzz obnoxiously. You didn't know who taught Luffy this power, but you were going to beat their ass later.

Scrolling through the rest of your new messages, you noticed a group chat had been made by Vivi about an hour and a half ago.

The Straw Hats

| Vivi created a new chat: “The Straw Hats” | Vivi: Hello! I made this group chat so that we could converse with more ease! | Vivi: I hope that the name is OK, but if anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to change it! | Zoro named the chat: “Fuck Sanji” | Mr. Prince named the chat: “Fuck Zoro” | Zoro named the chat: “Fuck Sanji” | Mr. Prince named the chat: “Fuck Zoro” | Straw Hat named the chat: “Baconeggsricepancakeswafflesmeatporkbeeframe” | Straw Hat: Why cant i type more | Usopp: You hit the word count Luffy | Straw Hat: Stupid | Zoro: your stupid | Mr. Prince: It's spelled ‘you're,’ mosshead. | Mr. Prince: We're on our way to breakfast, my dear ladies! ♡ | Straw Hat: I want breakfast now | Vivi: Nami and ____ are still sleeping in the dorm, but I will greet you all at the cafeteria when you arrive! | Straw Hat: I want breakfast now | Zoro: kk need 2 grab chopper otw c u soon | Zoro: fuck u sanji | Usopp named the chat: “Usopp Fans” Read 8:29 AM

You sighed, massaging your scalp and temples as you processed the clusterfuck of the new group chat.

“They're all at the cafeteria right now, Nami,” you said, tucking your phone into your pocket. “You good to go now?”

Nami nodded halfheartedly, strapping her foot into her sandal and grabbing her nearby backpack. You could tell she was still tired, despite the surge of manic energy she had immediately after waking up.

Her job must be really demanding, you thought, shrugging your own backpack over your shoulder and walking out of the dorm with Nami.

The walk to the cafeteria was quite pleasant, mostly due to the beaming sun and light breeze you could feel on your skin. You hoped the vitamin D would help to wake Nami up, occasionally glancing over to see her soaking it in—she looked like a plant trying to get every last bit, as opposed to those hot surfer babes tanning on the beach. With how fucked up the weather could get in Red Line, you were glad that the weather spirits were feeling kind, especially on today of all days. You were glad you didn't choose to attend Marineford Academy—the killer abs and glutes weren't enough to convince you to do cardio outside, 24/7, in rain, snow, or sun.

You and Nami pushed open the doors to the main entrance of the building, walking up the stairs to get to the cafeteria. Your group was at the usual table, doing the usual things that they usually did.

Like flinging food.

And yelling.

Loudly.

Nami slumped down next to Vivi, immediately using the blue-haired girl's shoulder as a pillow to rest her extremely tired head. Luffy barked out what you could only assume was a “hello,” but his words were muffled by the plethora of food he was still in the middle of chewing.

You set your bag down and walked over to the line to grab your breakfast, deciding to grab a little something for Nami to gnaw on while she caught a couple extra minutes of sleep. Plucking a tangerine from a fruit basket, you walked back to the lunch table.

“Luffy said he tried to text you,” Zoro said, turning to look as you sat down beside him.

“Believe me, I saw,” you chuckled, rolling Nami's tangerine over to Sanji to peel it.

Zoro was in his usual getup—baggy cargos, a fairly plain T-shirt, and a pair of really beaten combat boots. With his green hair, he fit the manic pixie dream girl label way better than you ever could. Surprisingly, he wasn't carrying his flask around with him. Grand Line, unsurprisingly, didn't have clear rules against drinking in public, so seeing students walk around with alcohol of varying strengths and sizes wasn't too out of the ordinary. At least Zoro was discreet enough to keep his in a flask, rather than lug around a bottle of wine as you’d seen others do.

“No booze today, big man?” you asked between bites. Zoro snorted, chowing down on his bowl of rice.

“He tried to take some of my booze last night,” Sanji chimed in, sliding the perfectly peeled and sliced tangerine over to Nami with a flourish. “Drank some [reference] and spat it out like it was garbage!”

“It was garbage.”

“So, as payback, I dumped out his supply. An eye for an eye, as they say.”

You laughed, almost choking on your food as you did so. The two men scowled and spat at each other, arms crossed like they were bitter enemies—which they were, of course.

“There are better things to fight about, boys,” you said, taking another bite of your breakfast. “You like swords, right, Zoro? Bond over that!”

“What the hell's so great about a sword?” Sanji said with a tsk. “Yer feet and hands are all you need—if you’re a real man, that is.”

“Are you gonna start cooking soup in your hands, then?” You snickered, flicking a grain of Zoro's rice at Sanji.

Despite the immense red flush covering his cheeks, Sanji caught the rice between his fingers with ease. He turned his head away, mumbling something under his breath with a small pout.

Zoro grinned, leaning towards Sanji, “The hell you say, chef? Speak up for the ta—”

Sanji lurched across the table and grabbed Zoro's shirt cuff, yanking him onto the ground as the two entered a fistfight, kicking up dust around them as the chant of ‘fight, fight, fight!’ echoed throughout the room. 

“I wanna join too!” Luffy screeched, throwing the rest of his food down his gullet as he jumped directly into the fray, laughing as he was directly socked in the face.

“I would join, but I'm afraid of ruining my hair,” Usopp smirked, running his fingers through his heavy curls with pride.

Nami snorted for a second, then went back to drooling and snoring on Vivi's shoulder.

“Yeah, same here,” you said, turning to Chopper. “Should probably head to class now, right, Chop? I'd like to avoid a bloody nose, if possible.”

Sanji's head popped out of the scuffle, “I would never let—did you just fucking bite my leg, Luffy?!”

“That's our cue, Chopper!” You and Chopper grabbed your bags and waved goodbye to the noncombatants, beginning your trek to the science building.

The building halls were fairly vacant, except for the quiet students studying in rooms and nooks. Your classroom was, thankfully, unused before class time, so you and Chopper could easily walk in and study for a bit without interrupting anyone. 

“Alright, boy-genius, I did have some questions to ask you about Wednesday's lecture,” you began, opening the door to the lecture hall for Chopper. You had expected the room to be empty, which it was, for the most part. The only soul inside the cold room was Law, who was sitting at his own table surrounded by textbooks and papers. His eyes were on the two of you the moment the door opened, and if looks could kill, his would most definitely shoot you dead.

“Well,” Law’s voice broke the awkward silence, “looks like someone decided to be punctual for once.”

You couldn’t help but sneer at his words, squaring your shoulder as you spoke, “I’ll have you know I’ve never been late to a class before, Mr. Leopard Print.”

“What’s with the hostility? You should show more respect to your TA, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and walked to the front of the room to grab two seats. Chopper had a guilty expression on his face, like a child watching his mom and dad argue right in front of them. The thought, however short it was, made you want to puke.

I’d feel bad for whoever that overachieving jackass gets with. You exhaled, grabbing your laptop and notebook from your backpack.

“Alright, Chop,” you turned towards him. “I’m like, only a bit confident in periodic trends. I’ve got atomic radius down, but stuff like electronegativity is—”

“Electronegativity increases from left to right,” Law’s irritating voice called out, slightly echoing in the barren room.

Your body whipped around as you prepared to tell him exactly where he could stuff his electronegativity, but just as your mouth opened, another student walked through the door. Law flashed you a smug smirk as you seethed, clenching your hand around the back of the chair.

You slowly turned back in your chair as more students funneled into the room, signaling the soon-to-be beginning of class. Chopper quietly helped clear up any confusion you had before class actually started, leaving you feeling more prepared—and slightly angry at that leopard print-wearing bastard.

After an excruciating 50 minutes of lecture, you made sure to pack up extra quickly, even helping Chopper pack up his own stuff, much to his confusion.

“W-We still have ten minutes to get to our next classes, ____,” Chopper said, staring as you chucked his textbook into his bag.

“Ten minutes to escape the gloomy bastard and his obnoxious taunts,” you hissed, making glances towards Law’s table. He wasn’t looking up at you, instead reading over some papers and jotting something down occasionally. 

“Time to make our escape, Chop,” you whispered, quickly dashing towards the exit with him in tow.

Just as you got one foot out the door, you heard a deep voice call out, “Have a good weekend.” It could have been directed towards any of the students, hell, maybe even to the professor. But the singsong tone of his voice felt particularly taunting towards you, and you couldn’t help but stomp out the rest of the way as Chopper attempted to console you.

“Biology can’t be as shitty as chem was,” you prayed out loud, setting your bag down as you took a seat. Chopper wasn’t here to provide company, and you didn’t really know anyone else in this class, making it an extra boring experience to have to sit through. On the other hand, you didn’t have a weird TA giving you extra obnoxious attention. Which was absolutely a win, no matter how small.

You were thrown out of your thoughts by a loud thump beside you, turning to see the green-haired man who had thrown his shit on the table and taken a seat.

Wait, you knew that green hair.

“What the hell are you doing in here, Zoro?” you asked in surprise.

Zoro sighed, kicking his feet up on the table, “Exercise science major—it’s required.”

“But you weren’t here on Wednesday.”

“I was hungover.”

The two of you stared at each other for a couple of seconds while your brain rebooted itself. You hadn’t forgotten Zoro’s major, or that he needed to take biology for it. Instead, you were absolutely flabbergasted that he would be skipping such an intensive, high-strung class that demanded—suddenly, you understood his thought process.

You sighed, pushing Zoro’s stuff to make some room for your own. “Did you at least do any of the reading you missed? Or check the slides?”

Zoro stared at you in reply, which you took to mean “I didn’t know we had readings.”

With an even heavier sigh, you flipped through your notebook and pushed it over to Zoro. “I take notes on my laptop first and then transcribe them, so just start copying into your notebook, and you can copy today’s notes during lunch later, ‘kay?”

Zoro frowned as he flipped through your notebook, and you could tell he wanted to toss it away and just roll with life. But, as a good, intelligent, and caring friend, you were not about to watch as Zoro failed this class out of pure laziness.

“Listen, Zoro. I’ll buy you a beer if you just take these notes, alright?”

“Two beers.”

“Deal!” You said cheerily, leaning back in your seat. You hadn’t expected Zoro to fold so quickly, but given how much alcohol he drank daily, it made sense he’d request booze, of all things.

During the lecture, you’d occasionally peek at Zoro as he painstakingly scribbled in his notebook, eyes darting between your neat notes and his own messy ones. At the very least, he seemed motivated enough to be transcribing your notes, which helped raise the hope you had in his grade point average. 

I wonder if I could find him a tutor, you thought. Chopper was an obvious candidate, but you weren’t sure if he would be a great match for Zoro. You worried that Zoro could take advantage of Chopper’s naivety and get out of actually studying, but it was worth a shot. At the very least, you could at least look into it.

As the lecture came to a close, you looked over to see Zoro’s progress. Unfortunately, he still had about a page of notes left to transcribe, and he looked absolutely sick of it. Other students had begun packing up and funneling out of the room, leaving you and Zoro alone. You couldn’t help but sigh and grab your phone, pulling up Chopper’s contact.

| You: hi chopchop!! are you still in the science building? Read 11:55 AM | Chopper: Hello! Yes, I’m on the 3rd floor! | You: zoro’s just finishing up w/ his notes and then we’ll probably go get lunch if you want to come? ilyk our room number if you want to stop by | Chopper reacted with a ‘thumbs-up’ emoji

You tucked your writing supplies back into your bag, then reached up to grab your laptop and do the same. Zoro reacted to your own packing, reaching for his own notebook to pull into his bag. You quickly slapped a hand on his, halting his movements as he stared in surprise, clearly having not expected you to, well, slap his hand.

“We’re not leaving until you finish your notes,” you scolded. “I know you’re going to put it off until the last minute if you don’t get it done now, so go back to writing.”

Zoro scowled, grumbled something under his breath, and went back to writing. You felt a buzz from your phone, looking back down at your new messages.

| Sabo: Hi ____! It’s Sabo, Luf gave me your number! :wink: Read 11:57 AM | You: hi sabo!! | You: i’ll be asking you psych questions now btw lol | Sabo: Luf wanted me to let you know that he broke his phone playing basketball. | You reacted with an ‘interrobang’ emoji | You: ?????? | You: wtf how  | You: also you two play basketball? | Sabo: Luffy’s more into it than Ace or I, but I’ll never pass on a chance to beat Luffy’s ass in something. | Sabo: Also, I have no idea how he broke it. I think he might have chucked a basketball into it? | Sabo: I had my back turned, then all I heard was “oh yeah!” followed by what I can only describe as the sound of a very cheap phone breaking. | You: lmaooo, ok i’ll start collecting everyone’s numbers to give to luffy, thanks for the heads up sabo! | Sabo: No problem! See you in psych! :smile: :heart:

You lowered your phone as the door of the lecture hall opened, seeing Chopper’s short frame peer in, glancing between you and Zoro as you waved at him. Zoro huffed, throwing his pencil into his bag and abruptly standing up from his seat.

“I finished the damn notes, so let’s go get some grub,” Zoro grumbled, chucking his bag over his shoulder.

“Usopp, Vivi, and Sanji are already at the cafeteria!” Chopper cut in cheerily, holding his hands behind his back politely.

You joined Zoro in standing, stretching your sore legs. “Alright, let’s get a move on and meet up with them. I don’t care what I eat, as long as it has caffeine in it.” 

“I’m not sure you’ll find much food with caffeine, ____!” Chopper added. “Unless you’re only going to eat chocolate and coffee beans, your best luck would be through teas, sodas, or energy drinks.”

“I’ll improvise,” you deadpanned, walking out of the hall with your two friends in tow.

By the time you arrived at the building, Vivi, Usopp, and Sanji had already reserved the group's usual table. Vivi and Sanji seemed to be bonding over whatever they were drinking, while Usopp was either doodling or writing something in his notebook. Knowing him, it was probably both. 

Chopper took a seat on Vivi and Sanji’s side of the table, while you and Zoro sat across from them with Usopp, much to Sanji’s obvious disappointment.

“My apologies, mon beauté, if I knew you were coming so soon, I would have prepared a seat for you,” Sanji said, trying his best to kiss your hand.

“The hell’s wrong with her seat here?” “It’s next to a green-headed troll.”

You lunged for Zoro's arm, trying to stop the conflict from spiraling into a deathmatch between the two idiots. Zoro's grip on his sword slowly loosened as he sat back down with a huff, crossing his arms as he did so. Sanji, on the other hand, seemed instantly placated by Vivi's gentle touch on his shoulder.

“Ah, mon saphir, your delicate hands could end wars!” he swooned, wiggling around like a worm begging to be grabbed up by a swooping bird.

You looked at Zoro, “I really don't think you should be carrying those around, Zo. It's only a matter of time until something bad happens.”

Zoro scoffed, moving his hand to cover his sword protectively. “It's fine, I had Usopp check that big book of rules when we first got here—the only thing students aren't allowed to carry are cannons.”

“Only cannons?”

“Only cannons.” “And everything else is allowed?”

“Yep.”

You resist the urge to facepalm, instead choosing to bite down on your finger to stifle your frustration with the university legislation. The thought of other people carrying weapons around campus—any kind of weapon, for that matter—was enough to have you subtly checking people’s waistbands from your seat. You hadn’t seen anyone—besides Zoro, obviously—that carried a weapon with them in such a visible way. 

Maybe everyone else is just smart enough to leave the weapons inside their bags, you thought, chewing on your finger.

“Zoro, can you get me some fries?” you asked, still glancing around the expansive room. “And some ketchup,” Usopp chimed in, cowering slightly below the table.

Zoro grumbled, a vein twitching in his forehead as he left to get food for the three of you.

Vivi smiled, turning to look at you, “So, you have your General Psychology class next, ____?”

“Yeah—did you know Luf’s brother was TA-ing for the class? I was kinda surprised to see him there…” You trailed off. A sociology student taking a psychology class wasn’t too crazy of an idea, but you wondered about the circumstances that brought the blond to the classroom.

“Is he anything like Luffy?” Sanji asked, picking at the near-finished salad in front of him. “If he is, then I hope he isn’t too loud during your class. There’s this beautiful girl in my Introduction to Pastries class—she wears her luscious pink hair in these cute, curly pigtails! Not to mention her fashion sense is—”

Sanji was stopped mid-sentence by a french fry-covered tray flying across the table, scattering fries across the surface and even into Sanji’s salad. You and Usopp cheered uproariously, immediately digging into the mountain of fries before you.

Zoro sauntered back over to the table, sitting back down next to you and grabbing a fistful of fries to shovel into his mouth. Sanji frowned, picking a fry out of his salad and flicking it at the swordsman. 

“Positions, Ussop, Vivi!” you yelled, rushing to separate the two men before things got bloody, or worse, loud enough for people to start staring. Unfortunately, the loud tray crashing on the table already did that job. Your fellow students were staring and whispering at the scuffle happening, but, unsurprisingly for a school that allowed unconcealed weapons to be held around campus, the majority of them were egging the two men on and placing bets under not-so-hushed breath.

“Cut him into pieces!”

“Knock his lights out!”

“That seaweed-head guy is so hot!”

Zoro whipped around, “Who the hell said that!” he barked. 

You were currently holding onto Zoro like a koala, trying to wrap your arms around his neck to stop his potential rampage with little success. Sanji, just like when you first arrived, was nuzzling into Vivi’s side while she petted his head. Off to the side, Chopper and Usopp were holding onto each other like two children watching their parents fight. 

“Listen—” you began, doing your best to finish a single sentence as Zoro whipped around wildly, trying to grab his swords despite your kicking and pulling. “I’ve got to get to class, can you—”

You gave Zoro’s hair a hard yank, causing the swordsman to stumble to the floor in a heap. Several disappointed “aws” came from the crowd, who then soon dispersed back to their respective tables, leaving your group with a sedated Sanji and a collapsed Zoro.

“As I was saying,” you continued atop Zoro’s body, “I need to get to my next class, so I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Goodbye ____!” Chopper waved, approaching the table and grabbing a fry.

You crawled off of Zoro’s body, muttering apologies and grabbing your bag as you ran out of the cafeteria and off to your next class. Despite having been in the class for three days now, you had yet to form a connection with anyone in the class—besides Sabo, of course. There were benefits to being friends with the TA, though, and you were hoping to make the most of your relationship.

Only a couple of students were in the class, reading over their textbooks and filling out the study guide that your professor was kind enough to make for you all. A familiar mop of blond hair stood out near the back tables, sitting alone with papers sprawled around him. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a smile rising to his face as he brushed some papers out of the way, freeing up the seat next to him.

You smiled back, setting your bag down and pulling out the chair. Sabo’s papers seemed to be a mix of vocabulary and study guides from different sociology courses. Despite the sheer number of them that were laid out on the table, they were seemingly well organized. Each stack had its own folder beneath it, along with carefully highlighted and underlined passages on nearly every page.

“I didn’t take you for a…” You paused, trying to think of a word that wouldn’t come off as backhanded.

Sabo chuckled. “I get it. Most people think I’m a freak of nature when they meet Luffy and Ace first.”

“Really?” you deadpanned. “If anything, it’s the other way around, right? Your brothers aren’t human.”

“We’re more similar than most people think—you’d believe it if you saw us as children. We were real troublemakers.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you remembered when Ace nearly hit a hockey puck straight through Luffy’s skull, or when he tackled Luffy in broad daylight. If this was how the brothers behaved now, what were they like as children? It was far too terrifying to linger on.

A quiet buzz from your phone freed you from your hypothetical nightmare. Your lockscreen showed a text from Vi, which you opened to check.

| Vivi: Hello ____! I wanted to ask you during lunch, but the fighting caused it to slip my mind | Vivi: Would you like to go downtown to Sabaody Street with Sanji and I? | Vivi: I want to go shopping! Read 2:27 PM | You: hi vi!!! ofc i would love to! <3 | You: what time were u thinking? Vivi is typing… | Vivi: How does four o’clock sound? | Vivi: Sanji suggested that we get drinks later! | You: omg nami and i went to a bar on sabaody st on tuesday it was awesome | You: gimme 1 sec You shared directions to ‘Shakky’s Rip-off Bar’ | Vivi: Thank you so much ____!!!! | Vivi: We will see you at four o’clock! | Vivi: :smile-duck:

“What’cha smiling about?” Sabo’s voice cut in, his face all too close to your own. 

You jumped back in shock, letting out a near-indescribable noise—somewhere near an “ah” and an “ough,” which was also embarrassingly loud enough to draw attention from the other students in the room.

You ducked slightly in your seat, waiting for everyone’s attention to leave your figure. “My friend Vivi just asked to hang out,” you whispered. Being the center of attention felt awkward, but you just couldn’t put your finger on why. It was almost like a mysterious force had disappeared from your—

“Where’s Luffy?” you asked, looking around the room a bit too frantically. You wouldn’t put it past Luffy to engage in guerrilla warfare in a classroom, but you also didn’t know Sabo well enough to know if he’d be willing to provide a distraction for the little shit.

Sabo chuckled. “It‘s alright, I made him go to his own classes today.” He effortlessly twirled his pen between his fingers. “Better for him to at least get a head start on some of his credits than follow Ace and me around like a puppy forever.”

“I thought he didn’t have a major?” You rubbed your temple gently. The longer you thought about Luffy’s college path, the more painful the throbbing in your head became. Perhaps the only people capable of understanding Luffy’s psyche were his brothers.

“Well,” Sabo trailed off, crossing his legs. “We tried to see if he was interested in trade schools, but then we got worried about what would happen if he was around buzzsaws and blowtorches.

“Next, we were going to see if he wanted to join the workforce early. We were hoping he’d be happy hauling around heavy objects and getting paid for it, but he really wanted to go to the same university as his big brothers.” He emphasized his last two words, his smile growing wider. “In the end, we figured he’d be better off in our caring hands than at risk of being picked up to be the muscle by some gang.”

You nodded. “Luf does seem easily influenced.”

“He’s got a good moral compass, at least. You could convince him to climb a building with only five words, but it’d take an army to make him do something he thinks is wrong.”

 Just as Sabo finished talking, the rest of the class began pouring in, filling out the empty chairs and disrupting the formerly quiet room. The professor was the last to enter, walking over to the podium to begin the afternoon’s lecture. You snuck one last peek at your phone, swiping up to reopen your texts with Vivi. Your thumb tapped the edge of the case, drumming rhythmically against the plastic as you debated whether or not you should ask the question on your mind.

With a quick exhale, your finger danced across the keys, shooting one last message to Vivi before you slid your phone away.

| Vivi: We will see you at four o’clock! | Vivi: :smile-duck: | You: is it cool if i bring a friend? Delivered 2:30 PM

“Oh boy, Sabaody! I haven’t been there for a while, you know? I’ve just been so busy! Last time I went was when…”

You were starting to doubt that Sabo wasn’t genetically related to Luffy. At first glance, you thought he’d be the more polished brother between the three. He didn’t look as jockish as Ace or act as clueless as Luffy. But as Sabo told more stories about his life, you were starting to see the familial connection. 

“And then we jumped off the side of the building!”

“Where the fuck were your parents, Sabo!?”

“Oh, Dadan was the one chasing us.”

“Hey, ____!”

You and Sabo looked across the street to see Nami waving excitedly across the street with Vivi and Sanji by her side. The blond was holding three large shopping bags in his arms, doing his best to wave at you as well.

“I am so glad you were able to make it!” Vivi rushed across the street, expertly dodging passersby and running into your arms before turning to the man next to you. “And you must be Sabo!”

“In the flesh,” he said, accentuating his words with a light bow.

You scoffed, “Don’t be fooled, he’s Luffy in sheep’s clothing.”

“Now, now!” Sabo linked his arms with yours and Vivi’s, safely escorting the two of you across the street. “I have twice the social experience as my brothers, mind you.”

“Zero times zero is still zero!” Nami cooed, prancing down the sidewalk. 

“Ah, ____, would you like me to carry your bag?” Sanji asked, extending his hand—which was already lined with bags—towards you.

You chuckled, reaching to pat Sanji’s head. “It’s alright, San. I don’t wanna overwork you before Nami’s even started.”

Sanji’s face fell as you stepped away towards Nami, joining the redhead as she peered into nearby store windows. Her face suddenly lit up, pressing her hands closer against the glass. “Oh my gosh, do you see that necklace ____? It’s perfect—the color, the chain, oh my gosh, I need it!” Nami grabbed your wrist, tugging you through the door and into the cool, air-conditioned store.

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"my flower," imu whispered, holding you gently in his arms. "remain by my side, from now to eternity, for there is no being in life or in death that could compare to thou." fire roared around the two of your, blood covering the ground from the bodies that were strewn about. imu had regaled his plan for a new world order before, but it was a different experience standing in the throes of it. "of course, my love." your hands fled to his midsection, lightly touching his injuries. you tried to remain focused on what was directly in front of you, doing your best to ignore the blood that dripped off his towering weapon. his grip on you tightened—squeezing you and burying his head into the crook of your neck. "we shall build an empire to outlast time itself," he murmured. "we shall be beautiful."

at first, it hurt seeing you talk to someone else. then, a new, dirty feeling struck his heart. 'jealousy,' they called it. but in reality, it was merely imu's will asserting what was known to be the truth—that all were ants compared to his might.

all it took was one time for imu to lock you away under the assertion that the outside world was no longer safe. the air was impure, the ground was too dangerous, and the sky held too many possibilities.

imu prepared several rooms for you, focusing on making it as perfect as can be. it marks a new point in your relationship, and imu simply wants to ensure that you both can adapt to this new era.

"i appreciate all of this my lord—" "and within the left hall lies the garden, thou hast an allotment for thy doings—" "imu," you finally asserted yourself, moving to stand in front of him. "what of my old room? what of the garden beneath in mary geoise? am i to abandon it all now? my love, i am not so fragile as to need all this." a frown graced imu's face. it was an impetuous expression that last for but a moment, casted not in your direction, but towards the brilliant light billowing in from an expansive window. "all mu does, my petal," he began, brushing your cheek with a tender softness, "mu does for thou." such a sentiment would have soothed your mind centuries ago, but you were older and wiser now, capable of recognizing the words of a demon whispered in the voice of an angel. a shame, that despite all he had done, you could not bare to strike at his presence in your heart.

in the end, all of the precautions he had taken could not stop imu's fears from dominating your lives. the revolutionaries were determined to destroy the heaven he made for the two of you, while figures of the past were set on repeating dreaded history.

what good is this world, he thinks, if all of its inhabitants intend to separate the two of you? no one can compare to his power, no one can rival his might, and no one can take you away from him.

he held the control of the ancient weapon in his possession, staring down past the clouds and into the brilliant blue sea below. the air may be tainted, the ground may be filthy, and the sky may, one day, fall down. but the ocean would cleanse and purify the world from the obnoxious plague that screams down below.

"you're planning on doing what, imu?" you dropped all titles and formalities, staring forlornly at the man you had once loved. "'tis a long overdue reckoning. to rinse this world of its original sin that continues to plague and bring all to ruin." he turned to face you, and you wished for him to look mad, to have the visage of manic king ravaged by time. but the man standing before you looked more clear, more confident, than he ever had before. "imu, you can't—" in an instant he drew near, lifting your sleeve to trace the mark along your arm. "mu had promised thou eternity," he cooed, turning to face you with the same expression he wielded centuries ago. and, in just the same way he had so long ago, he held you close to his chest. yet now his touch felt foreign and his grasp discomforting. "eternity thou shalt have," imu continued, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "a new world awaits us once more, my petal."