THE SAW.

Thesmile fades as quickly as it arrived, being replaced by oldmelancholia. “Nobody is asking you to like them,” Jinbesighs, feeling exhausted beyond his years as he looks off into thedistance, the red ink visible beneath his kinomo such a starkcontrast to the blue of his scales. “But we can all live beneaththe same sun.”

Was he mad at him? Jinbe pauses, mulling over his answer. “I…have blamed myself for your actions, for a long time,” heeventually admits, not looking at Arlong. For a moment, he thinks hecan smell traces of citrus being carried on the salt breeze, and heknew that the anger and regret in his heart wasn’t his to carry. Noone had filled him in on the details of what Arlong had done to herand her home, but Jinbe knew that Arlong’s repentance wouldn’t bringback Bell-mèrefrom the dead. It wouldn’t heal those scars on his nakama’s and her sister’s hearts. “There are some things that cannot be undone. Ioften wondered why you did the things you did. If I could’vechanged anything about your views when both Tiger and Queen Otohime had failed to do so—had I just tried more.” 

     arlong doesn’t speak for a moment.   simply watches the other fishman in silent reflection ,   the admission of guilt hanging heavily upon his shoulders.   he had some time to think while in prison ---   most of it spent mourning tiger ,   missing jinbe ,   & attempting to squash down the storm in his heart over nami.   he’d come to a realization ,   one he’d spent so long trying to deny.   as much as it pains him to admit ,   there’s no point in trying to say he feels no compassion for humans   /   that little girl has become his treasure. 

It had been her first birthday without Bell-mère. No matter what they did, she was going to be a wreck. Her mother was dead, she had been a terrible daughter, and nothing would ever bring a smile back to her little face ever again.

Though the eleven year old had been lost in her grief, a sweet sketch laid in the captain’s throne. A depiction of the scene, only a few days ago. A saw-nosed fish man, a young Nami, and the crew, surrounding a table. There was a cake, and gifts meant to appease her, though the little girl didn’t seem happy. His scales were colored a realistic periwinkle, his smile, unmistakeable. Each member of the crew was identifiable, a fantastic feat, for a girl her age only using crayon and pencils.

Maybe he would like it. Maybe it would change things.

Maybe it was silly to hope.

     humans were of no use to him.   though ,   if ever there was an exception ---   it was nami.   the girl was bright beyond her years ,   talented in ways he never thought a little human could be.   though he had attempted to deny ,   fought against his own instincts ,   it had become abundantly clear to him :   arlong had grown rather fond of her.   perhaps it was because she reminded him of his own sister so ,   sharp - tongued & witty ,   clever ,   stubborn.   & when he holds nami in his arms ,   the weight of her little body sparks old memories.   he wonders if shyarly is well ,   safe   /   a guilt prickling at the back of his neck for leaving.   but he did it for tiger ,   he has to remind himself.   (   it was always for tai ,   wasn’t it ?   )

     the drawing caught his eye as arlong lazily strode towards his throne ---   brows lifting in surprise ,   a webbed hand lifting the paper up to get a better look.   he recognized the scene ,   of course.   it had take place not long ago.   for the little girl’s birthday he’d sent some of the crew out to find gifts for her ,   gotten her whatever food she liked ,   & had spent the day making her feel as welcome among the fishmen as he could.   she was part of the crew now ,   after all   /   cruel as he may be ,   he wasn’t so callous as to not celebrate a child’s special day.

     arlong feels a bloom in his chest ,   & casts his gaze upwards toward nami’s room.   she had drawn this for him ?   it’s rather good ,   for a girl her age.   & the more he looks at it ,   the more he knows he could never throw such a gift away.   the drawing is tucked into the inside of his shirt   (   above his heart ,   above ink that branded him one of the sun pirates .   )   & without turning ,   he lifts his voice.

His expression softened at his words. Jinbe placed another one of his hands on his shoulder and drew Arlong against himself, knocking their foreheads together in a familiar gesture while taking care not to poke himself on his nose.

“Your hurt has caused your hate, and your hate has caused more hurt. It was too late for our brother to let go of his own demons… But it isn’t too late for you, Arlong.” Jinbe drew away, his lips pulling up into a small smile. “Tiger wouldn’t have wanted you to continue carrying this resentment within your heart.” 

     the brim of his hat is pulled down & over his eyes the moment jinbe pulls away   (   perhaps to hide the welling of tears there .   )   he’s probably right ---   he usually is ,   that’s the infuriating part.