Hiruluk is a contradiction. In that he is both the best and worst doctor in all of Drum Kingdom.
In terms of actual skill as a doctor, he is terrible. he can barely do the basics of first-aid let alone cure any serious disease.
Yet he is the one doctor in all of Drum Island who truly embodies what a Doctor should be. Which is a deep rooted, unshakable belief in helping and healing others.
When he first meets chopper, his sole priority is to heal his wounds. He doesn't care what Chopper is. He doesn't care what Chopper might do. The only thing he cares for is that Chopper is bleeding.
That's the bittersweet tragedy of Hiruluk: the one doctor who cared died. but in dying he inspired someone to care and inherited his bedrock belief in healing the wounded.
And that someone will become one of the greatest doctor in the world thanks to him.
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I didn't cry when Hiruluk was giving his "When do you think a person is truly dead?" speech.
I didn't cry when he said that Drum Kingdom can be cured.
I didn't cry even when he blew himself up in the last act of defiance.
These are all beautiful moments and I will always cite Hiruluk as the example of One Piece characters dying in beautiful ways.
But the moment when I cried was the scene where Dalton says to angry Chopper:
"Don't sacrifice yourself needlessly for this country."
I would say this line is less about Chopper and more about Dalton.
Dalton who just witnessed a good-hearted man; a man who believed that Drum Kingdom can be saved; a man who was brave and strongwilled, kill himself. And Wapol just laughed it off. In this moment Dalton realized how much Drum Kingdom is broken and he decided to leave the royal guard. If Chopper goes to Wapol, he will die and his death will be in vain. Maybe even deep down Dalton thinks that Drum Kingdom - the way it is now - doesn't deserve such noble sacrifice.
He also probably wants to fullfil Hiruluk's last wish and keep his son safe.
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summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.
highlight: You won't make it, and I´ll have to eat pie with eggshell.
notes: Theydies and gentlethem, I am officially back! There is much to catch up and tell, but we´ll figure things as we go. Anyway, requests are open, so feel free to send them!
𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤!
The little girl's laughter filled the kitchen. She ran towards the beautiful woman near the marble counter and circled the hem of her skirt.
Holding tighter the bowls and ingredients, the mother laughed.
Her little daughter looked like an inexhaustible fuel rocket, and her wide smile spread from ear to ear.
A few meters away, sitting at the top of the table, the place usually occupied by the father was the older child, a pale boy.
He kept the same frown as always. His t-shirt was neatly ironed, his shoes polished, and his hair sloppily brushed back with gel. Despite the effort to imitate the family patriarch's hairstyle, a rebellious streak insisted on falling over his face.
Every Sunday, the mother baked a meat pie with tomatoes. Not ketchup, never ketchup.
¨Where are your shoes, Y / N? ¨ the boy asked as he noticed the white socks on his sister's bare feet.
¨Where are your shoes, Y / N?! ¨ she emulated him in an annoying voice, making his frown increase.
¨Don't worry, Croc. She will be the one to scrub the grimy socks later.¨ Her mother intervened with a mischievous grin.
The girl's smile turned into a pout for a few seconds before she took off her socks and ran to the laundry room, tossing them towards the basket.
Everyone loved Sundays. It was a day without school, without work. It was a day of pure celebration of leisure and small silly things like pie.
Sunday was pie day.
The girl made herself available to help, and the boy continued to stare at the book on the table. They worked just like a mechanic shop, the mother asked for an ingredient, and the little girl reached out for her.
The boy kept his eyes on the books, enjoying the noise they made.
Eventually, his gaze would fix on the ladies, especially when the mother let his sister break an egg in the batter. He would cheer silently and say ¨You won't make it, and I´ll have to eat pie with eggshell.¨
Even when she learned to break them precisely, he continued to say the same words.
She would challenge him to try and do better, but he would respond by saying that boys didn't cook. The mother then would twist her lips and make a sign for the girl to tackle him with flour.
The food war would last only a few minutes. After all, no one should play with food. In the end, with the pie in the oven, the mother sat on the floor, back against the counter. The little girl lay with her head on her mother´s lap, and the boy sat beside them, knees close to his chest.
¨How long, ma? ¨ she asked.
¨40 to 45 minutes, Y/N. Same thing as last week.¨ the brother replied.
¨Today is more humid, big head. It can take longer.¨
¨Mom! ¨ they shouted in unison.
The woman smiled gently, grateful for the healthy children. Happy for another Sunday.
¨Well, the humidity of the air can change the cooking time, it is true. But we have a good oven. In the end, we will have to stay here together, taking care of the pie.¨
The children mumbled something and fell silent again.
¨Mom, can you tell us a story?¨ Crocodile asked.
¨What story? ¨
¨Any story.¨
¨Tell us again about your surgery! ¨ the little girl exclaimed. ¨The apendex.¨
¨It is ¨appendix¨, Y/N.¨ said the boy.
¨Shush, Croque.¨
The woman laughed again and told the story about the removal of her appendix to the girl who wanted to be a doctor and the boy who simply liked to hear the soothing voice of his mother.
*
Breathtaken. That was how you felt. So, places like this really exist? They were not movie fantasies or upper-class rumors.
The magnitude made your eyes water and your lungs lock. The sun was almost no longer shining on the line where the sky met the sea, highlighting the bright shopfronts on Eldorado Avenue.
The shock was plastered across your face as Crocodile gently guided you through his office. Or rather, the entire floor that he casually called an office.
The windows went from the floor to the ceiling, curtains in wet purple velvet fastened to the sides with golden adornments so well positioned that it was as if they were never closed.
The walls were painted in a cold dark brown, and juniper green victorian sofas were perfectly aligned with a carved wood coffee table.
The black terrazzo flooring was so polished it reflected everything placed upon it. There was not a trace of dust, and in the reflection of the floor, you discovered a pompous chandelier of gold and crystal.
¨I thought top floors were for VIP guests?¨ you spoke, letting out an airy laugh.
¨I am the owner of this hotel, Y/N. Is there anyone more VIP than me?¨
Crocodile offered you a smug face. His words made you giggle, helping to release a bit of the tension. When your shoulders finally relaxed, you realized how much pressure you were putting on them.
¨Sorry... for the last eight years, I pretty much slept in a hole in the ground, using bricks as pillows.¨
The man´s eyes hovered lost for a second.
¨You should live here.¨ you turned to him with a raised brow. ¨I mean, not here, this is my office. But in the Light District. I have a place for you here.¨
A genuine smile rose on your lips. So predictable of yours, brother.
¨I appreciate it, Croc. But I have a good place in the Justice District. Besides, it feels like home.¨
¨I can give you a better home here. I will bring your apartment here if you want.¨ he insisted.
You stopped by a beautiful round table decorated with elegant plates, fancy glasses waiting to be filled with expensive wine, and shiny cutlery.
Crocodile pulled the chair for you, offering a napkin to cover your lap. Your eyes sparkled as you watched him make his way to the seat in front of you.
When you were both accommodated, a couple of waiters got closer, one bringing the wine and the other plates closed with cloches.
¨It´s pretty tempting, I´m not gonna lie. But then I would work on the other side of the town.¨ you smiled, mumbling a quiet thank you to the servant.
¨I´ll have-¨
¨I don´t want to spend too long in traffic. Even if you assign your Raven to drive me there.¨
¨Tsk. I thought the war would make you less stubborn, Y/N.¨ he sighed.
¨Quite the opposite. And that statement makes no sense.¨
¨Offers stands forever. All you have to do is say.¨
¨That´s comforting. I appreciate you so much, Croc. Mom and dad would be so proud of you.¨
A brief second of your eyes meeting his, the air seemed oddly heavy, swamped in neglected hurt.
¨Don´t get sentimental on me now, Y/N.¨ his gaze averted from yours ¨Tell me about that place of yours. How is the district treating you?¨
¨Redeeming itself.¨ you smiled sadly. ¨My medal of honor granted me a top floor and a good neighbor.¨
¨Save me from-¨
¨Not like that, jackass!¨ you threatened to throw a napkin at him. ¨For safety issues. My neighbor is a cop.¨
The glass of wine lasted a second longer on his lips, taking in your words with all the attention he could provide you.
¨Oh yeah?¨ he smiled.
¨I know, right? He is like, Police task Commander or something like that.¨
¨What´s his name? I might know him.¨
¨Hm,¨ you hummed, cleaning your mouth. ¨Smoker. That´s all I know.¨
¨Smoker?¨
¨And you´ll never guess! He is friends with Shakky and Rayleigh-san!¨
¨How so?¨ the man seemed surprised, politely cleaning his lips.
¨Yeah, I know. By the way, Shakky said you haven´t been in touch in years. Don´t be like that, Croc. They´re Rayleigh and Shakky.¨ you pleaded.
¨I am and will forever be grateful for the help they provided us in the past, but I have businesses that require my attention all the time.¨
¨How come you have time to have dinner with me then?¨ you teased.
¨I´d always clear my schedule for you, Lieutenant pain in my ass.¨
¨Very mature of yours, Mr.Butthead Businessman.¨ you smiled. ¨Still, you should check in every once in a while.¨
¨Things have changed, Y/N.¨ his voice sounded a decibel more serious, and you found yourself surrounded by the same heavy air you shared with Shakky and Rayleigh earlier.
¨Should I be worried?¨ he raised a brow at you. ¨That.¨ you pointed at his face, bringing the same finger to trace a line on your face, exactly where the scar is. ¨You didn´t have that.¨
¨I told you, Y/N, I´m a businessman. I own this district, and some people might not like that.¨
¨So, should I be worried?¨
And there it was once again. The eerie haze, despite all your efforts to make the moment lighter. You did not want to imagine the sorts of jobs that would lead him to be hurt like that.
Crocodile rested the cutlery on the plate, stiff shoulders relaxing a bit for the first time in the whole night and offering a caring smile that granted you provisionary tranquility, he said ¨No, Y/N. You shouldn´t worry about me. Now let´s finish dinner. I want to visit your place, just to make sure.¨
And with that, you bit the bait, smiling and forgetting about your concerns. After all, Crocodile has a good heart, and he has always been smarter than everyone, he must know better.
