One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

One Piece, it's characters and settings, belongs to Oda Eiichirou and Shonen Jump, and are being used here without permission. Rated PG-13 for language and violence, nothing more than One Piece usually has. C&C welcomed and greatly appreciated.

 

 

 

 

Drawn

Chapter 7

 

 

When Usopp awoke the next morning it was with a sudden tug on his nose. He yelped in surprise, nearly tumbling out of his bunk. Someone steadied him just enough not to go crashing to the floor. “What the—” Opening his eyes, he was met with Snowrunner's bright face.

 

“Uso~pp,” the ghost whined plaintively. “What happened to Zoro?”

 

“Huh?” Usopp scrubbed his eyes as he sat up and glanced about—Zoro's bunk was empty, as was Sanji's, and there was no sign of Bravis or Ghost the Third. He frowned. “Didn't Sanji have first watch?” he muttered around a yawn as he climbed lazily out of his hammock. “He was supposed to wake me up at midnight.”

 

“Zoro's gone,” Snowrunner continued to complain. “And it's already morning.”

 

“Really?” Still trying to wake himself up Usopp smacked Luffy and Chopper on his way towards the ladder up. Both groaned and rolled over—it would be a while before either woke. In the meantime Usopp ascended to the deck with Snowrunner in tow to take a look. “Check the ship,” he told his ghostly companion. “I'll see if Sanji's still up in the crow's nest.”

 

“Okay!”

 

“That damn Zoro's probably off lost somewhere again,” Usopp muttered as he climbed the mast to the crow's nest. The sun was just rising, not enough yet to chase away the night's chill, and it spread goosebumps up his arms. “He'd better not be causing trouble—I don't want marines on us again!”

 

As he reached the top Usopp stopped, having found a sight he hadn't expected: Sanji was indeed still in his position as lookout, with Nami curled and apparently asleep at his side. His jaw dropped. “Uh…what's…?”

 

The cook fixed him with a particularly lethal gaze. “Wake her up and I kill you.”

 

Usopp gulped, taking the threat seriously. He sank back so that only his nose peeked over the edge of the wood. “Um…have you seen Zoro?” he asked in a whisper. “He's kinda missing….”

 

“He left last night,” Nami replied, and both boys started as she stirred at Sanji's side. Usopp ducked back further, as it looked like Sanji were about to throttle him, if not for Nami continuing to speak. She stretched her legs out and began to stand. “He had his swords with him—I think it had something to do with one of the ghosts.”

 

“Oh, that's right,” Sanji recalled. “But…but Miss Nami, you don't have to go just yet….?”

 

“It's morning,” she replied, stretching her arms high over her head. “And if Zoro's still gone, he's probably out causing trouble, that idiot. Even after I warned him.” She looked to Usopp. “Is everyone else awake?”

 

“Um, not yet,” Usopp replied, still looking anxious. “Just Snowrunner and me.”

 

“Well, let's get everyone up—we can decide what to do, then.” She moved closer, smacking him lightly on the side of the head. “You gonna go down, or what? You're in the way.”

 

“Oh—oh, right! Sorry, heh heh….”

 

Usopp started down, but when he glanced up to see if Nami were following he didn't see her. He paused, and despite the early morning wind he was just able to make out her voice floating down from above; it was quiet with sincerity.

 

“Hey Sanji…thanks. For everything.”

 

“You're very welcome, Miss Nami.”

 

Usopp frowned, hesitating a moment longer, but when Nami started to climb down after him Sanji's chiding quickly urged him on. He didn't know what either was talking about, but they had sounded serious just then. His curiosity prickled with all manner of explanations, and by the time they all reached the bottom he was blushing in embarrassment—which earned him fist from Nami, for “getting the wrong idea.”

 

Several minutes later everyone was on deck, considering their missing crewmember and guests. It was quickly determined that no one knew the reason, or even if all three were together somewhere; though that seemed the most likely.

 

“If that moss head didn't go off to drink, he's probably fighting,” Sanji muttered as he lit himself his first cigarette of the day. “Maybe even fighting that ghost.”

 

“But that's not fair,” Snowrunner protested bouncily. “I wanna see!”

 

“Maybe Zoro went back to that school…?” Chopper suggested. “We could ask Mr. Ohtori.”

 

Luffy's face twisted into one of childish thoughtfulness. “If he is fighting, I'm not going to miss it this time. So let's go see Mr. Bird Head.”

 

Nami was quick to latch onto the back of his collar before he could get far. “Hold on, Luffy. Are you forgetting you're wanted here? Everyone in town saw us yesterday—you're just going to cause trouble!”

 

“I'll go with him!” Snowrunner piped up excitedly. “No one in the city knows me, right?”

 

“But that still means….”

 

“Nami.” Robin stepped forward, drawing everyone's attention with her cool smirk. “Our captain wants to see his swordsman in action, right? We should abide by his decisions.”

 

Nami frowned severely. “But—”

 

“I'll go with him, and the boy. I know this city, and I can keep them out of trouble.” The elder woman tilted her head up slightly. “Would that be acceptable? The rest of you can watch over the ship until we get back.”

 

Nami didn't look pleased, but when she caught Luffy's gaze she faltered a little. “Fine,” she said around an exasperated sigh. She crossed her arms over her chest. “We'll make sure the ship's ready to sail—just make sure you get Zoro back here, so we don't have to stay any longer than necessary.”

 

Robin smiled, already turning toward the edge of the ship with Luffy and Snowrunner skipping behind. “Roger that.”

 

*****

 

Zoro was jostled out of his delicate rest when the carriage hit a rough patch of ground; he stretched mightily and yawned, as if having been deeply asleep. He knew that, despite their apparent hospitality, the men he was traveling with now weren't to be far trusted, and it had kept him slightly on edge. That didn't seem to bother the boy across from him—Bravis had slumbered all through the night, not making a sound as if dead.

 

“Hey.” Zoro kicked the boy's boot lightly. “It's morning.”

 

“Hmm?” Bravis's eyelids fluttered open, but he didn't stir or stretch, as would have been usual for someone just awakening. He only glanced to the side to see the dull light beginning to stream through the carriage window. “Oh, it is. We must be nearly there.”

 

Zoro frowned. “You actually know where we're going?”

 

“To the Jaga camp, I'd assume,” Bravis replied with a shrug. “It's east of Aoyama's compound, so we'll have to double back when it's time to fight.”

 

“You're going to fight?”

 

“Well….” Bravis scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Not me, of course. But you guys.”

 

Zoro crossed his arms, not quite amused. “You didn't put up much of a fight in coming here,” he remarked. “For being that damn Ghost's prisoner. And how do you know the base of a secret clan anyway?”

 

“There's something here I want, too. And we've…kind of worked together before, me and Magatou,” Bravis confessed, his gaze slipping away from the man. “The Kurakuda were holding the sword itself for a long time, and I helped get it back. The Jaga Clan was even going to help me escape the island, but…..”

 

He trailed off, and though Zoro was tempted to pressure him for more information, it was then that the carriage slowed to a jerky halt. Soon after he could hear Ghost's deep chuckle, and the carriage door was tugged open. “Hey, fellas,” the ghost greeted slyly. “Last stop.”

 

*****

 

“Here I come!”

 

Usopp let out a high battle cry as he jumped from the lowest branch of the cherry tree, landing with a flourish in the huge pile of fallen cherry blossoms he and Chopper had spent the last several minutes gathering. Or rather, Chopper had scooped them together with his antlers while Usopp paraded about giving orders. Now that the work was done, both enjoyed themselves in pouncing in and out of the piles, flinging bundles at each other as if it were snow. They hadn't strayed far from the ship in Luffy's absence, but the chance to enjoy the scenery was too much to pass up. For Chopper especially—between rounds of play Usopp could see the reindeer's eyes gleam, as if on the brink of tears, as he took in the sight of so many blossoms. It wasn't hard to imagine he'd been waiting most of his life to see them.

 

“Ahh, isn't it great.” When Usopp finally tired he flopped over in a makeshift bed of the soft flowers. “We finally get a bit of rest. It's been weeks since we weren't running from Baroque Works—since before we met you, you know! We deserve the break.”

 

“You don't think Zoro's in trouble, do you?” Chopper asked as he tried gathering some of the flowers up for himself. “Just running off like that….”

 

Usopp waved a hand carelessly. “Oh, don't worry about that lug. He can take care of himself, right? I'm more interested in a nap.” He folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the vibrant pink canopy above them. “Being a pirate is great, huh?”

 

Chopper grinned as he plopped down as well. “Yeah!”

 

“Especially when you're us. We're awesome pirates.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“No one can beat us!”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Not even dumb old marines!”

 

“Um….”

 

“Hm?” When Usopp wasn't met with a resounding affirmative, he cocked an eye at him. “What is it?” Chopper was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide, unanswering. “Hey, Chopper,” Usopp tried again. He began to sit up. “What's the matter with—”

 

He was cut off by the sound of at least a dozen rifles being cocked into readiness, and he froze, finally noticing what had caused Chopper's silence: the small clearing they'd taken as their playground was entirely surrounded by men in white uniform, each aiming a loaded firearm at the pair. As Usopp gaped at their sudden and soundless appearance, the ranks parted to allow the tall form of a woman through. Lieutenant Hashiko glared down at them evenly.

 

“Not even `dumb old marines', hm?” she quoted, entirely unamused.

 

Usopp gulped.

 

*****

 

Sanji hummed a light tune to himself as his knife tapped a steady rhythm against the cutting board. With everyone out and about they were bound to return hungry, and he had no problem doing his duty as ship's cook to satisfy them. He was in a rare mood that morning; though having lost a lot of sleep the night before just enjoying his unexpected company, he felt bright and aware. It would mean for a big meal for everyone.

 

“Sanji!” Nami came hopping down the stairs into the kitchen. “What do you think?”

 

Sanji turned to look: his jaw nearly hit the floor, eyes gaping, at what he found. Nami had dressed in one of the outfits she'd bought at Ohtori City the day before. It was a long, elegant kimono dyed deep turquoise, and covered in delicately stitched golden autumn leaves. It fit and matched her perfectly—as far as Sanji was concerned—and she seemed just as pleased with it, doing a spin to show off the intricate bow at her back.

 

“Well?” she prompted again. “How does it look?”

 

“Miss Nami, it's absolutely gorgeous on you!” Sanji gushed, looking ready to burst from sheer happiness. “Such beauty—such sophistication! You are a very model of perfection!”

 

Nami made a face at him, coming a bit closer. “I was hoping you might be a little more serious,” she chided, poking him in the shoulder.

 

“But I am serious,” Sanji protested lovingly. But remembering the night before he paused, cleared his throat, and in a much more reserved tone told her, “You look very lovely.”

 

Nami, startled by his suddenly unexaggerated response, blushed a little. He kept his celebration of that victory inside as best he could. “Um, thank you.” She quickly shook herself. “I mean, of course it's lovely. It had better be, for how much I paid for it.” She turned abruptly and started for the door. “I'm going to try the other one on.”

 

Sanji grinned after her. “Make sure you come show me!”

 

Nami shot him an annoyed glare over her shoulder as she left, but she was glowing maybe a bit, which only made his grin wider. He returned to his food preparation with greater spirit than even before. However it had happened, the night before seemed to have drawn them a bit closer, and he was grateful.

 

Only a moment of peace passed, and then the cabin door was thrown roughly open, and this time he was met not with Nami's face but Wadou's. Her old features were screwed up with concern. “Come quickly,” she said urgently. “It's the marines.”

 

“Marines?” Sanji echoed. Swearing under his breath the chef quickly shed his apron and rushed on deck. Nami was already there, brandishing her staff near the ship's railing. She glanced back only briefly as the pair hurried to her side. Sanji hissed another curse: the shore was lined with uniformed marines, each brandishing rifles. “Usopp and Chopper?” he asked quietly.

 

“They should be just beyond the trees,” Wadou answered, her expression grim. “I don't think the Marines could have missed them….”

 

The ranks of soldiers parted, and from them stepped forward a young man. He was dressed in a black and white gi not unlike that of Lieutenant Hashiko, hair cut in a similar fashion: bangs cut straight across his eyebrows. He held at his side a wooden staff as long as he was tall, which was tipped on one end with a round, metallic scoop. He lifted his voice to the pirates. “You three there are under arrest! In the name of the Oyomi Marines!”

 

“Like hell,” Sanji muttered, taking a step away from the rail. He lowered his voice so only Wadou could hear him. “Can you fight, granny?”

 

“I was a smith, not a samurai,” she retorted. “But don't worry about me. I'm already a ghost.”

 

“Fair enough.” He looked to Nami, who nodded seriously, gripping her staff. There weren't that many of them—between the two of them, they would manage, guns or no. He was just about to call back to the marine when a sound alerted from behind. On the far end of the ship a pair of boarding hooks had been thrown onto the rail, and were being tugged taut.

 

“Shit!” Sanji turned, sprinting toward the other end of the ship. “Stay down!” he shouted back at the two women. “Don't let them board—and don't get shot!”

 

“Easy for you to say!” Nami retorted as she and Wadou quickly took cover.

 

By the time Sanji crossed the deck another pair of hooks had been set into place, and marines were beginning to pull themselves onto the ship. He wasted no time in barreling into them, kicking two into each other so they went sailing over the rail. A gun went off; his heart skipped but he didn't hesitate in attacking the weapon-brandishing soldier, sending him to join his comrades.

 

Something that wasn't a man came rushing towards him, and Sanji spun, catching the speeding weapon on his shin. The impact was greater than he thought and sent a shudder up his leg. He lifted his gaze to his attacker, only to find the same dark-haired boy that had a moment ago been on the opposite side of the ship. Confused as he was, it gave his opponent time to attack; a shift of his staff brought a long blade about, and Sanji nearly fell flat on his back in bending away from what could have been a lethal strike.

 

Sanji handspringed backwards, landing once more on his feet so he could face his unexpected attacker. A closer look showed it wasn't the same boy after all: his staff ended not in a scoop but a twelve inch blade, serrated like the edge of a carving knife.

 

Sanji's expression hardened. “Twins, huh?”

 

“Lieutenants Hamono and Hisuke,” he introduced, lowering himself slightly in a readied stance. “And you must be the man our sister met in the marketplace.”

 

A grin slid briefly across Sanji's face. “I must have left a good impression.”

 

The boy charged without warning or announcement; Sanji had no choice but to fall back beneath the swinging blade. The wide arcs of the weapon prevented him from getting in for an attack, and he suspected that this had been his enemy's plan all along. For the moment none of his strikes were especially lethal, but the distraction was allowing for more marines to board the ship, and they were quickly heading towards Nami and Wadou.

 

“Damnit—get off, you shithead!” Sanji spun, managing to catch the staff just below its blade with the inside of his foot. He slammed it down in hopes of snapping the metal but he was left open for a moment, and Hamono took full advantage. Abandoning his grip of the weapon the boy struck, placing a kick in Sanji's gut—much has his sister had done the day before—that sent him reeling.

 

“You…shitty bastards….” Sanji pushed quickly to his feet once more, lashing out at the few marines that were in his range. They were felled easily enough, but then Hamono was coming down on him again, forcing him into a brief retreat. “We haven't done anything on this island—what do you want with us?”

 

“Oyomi does not tolerate pirates,” Hamono replied, his voice a near monotone. “And your comrades have already killed four men.”

 

Sanji grimaced. “But that wasn't—”

 

Hamono attacked before he could finish, and they circled each other a moment—again Sanji was forced on the defensive as the blade struck dangerously close to his torso. His opening finally came when Hamano was turned slightly with the momentum of his own weapon, and he aimed a kick that caught the boy firmly in the chest. Sanji indulged in a moment of earned satisfaction as his opponent was tossed fiercely back, his body striking the wood. The closest marines gaped.

 

“A steak knife against a chef,” Sanji snorted, his leg still extended after the kick. “You've got to be kidding me.”

 

He caught the flicker of movement to his left, but by the time he recognized what it was it was too late: the second brother was already upon him, staff lifted high. The weapon came down faster than he thought it should have. Sanji turned; the metal was a blur as it rushed toward him, and all he remembered was the sickening impact against his shin.