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| - Pura Rihawk shoved the last of what belongings she had into the small burlap sack. The same one she had used to move her belongings when her mother had been killed, all those short few years ago. She zipped it shut, then stood up, throwing the sack over her shoulder and picking up Yamiryuu, safely sheathed. She looked at the small shrine she had created once she had moved in with her uncle, with a small framed picture of her mother being the centerpiece. Marshall Rihawk had never approved of such things, refusing to let her even attend her mother’s funeral. She didn’t know why then, but she knew now. And it didn’t help much. “I’m going with them, Mom,” the swordswoman said simply, turning around and walking towards the door, “I’m going to fulfill my dream. For both of us.” “Ciaosusususususu!” Knave laughed, throwing his head back, “I almost died there, didn’t I?” “OF COURSE YOU DID!” Stormy cried, delivering a chop to the marimo lad’s head, splitting his hair neatly in half where it landed. An angry red welt immediately sprung up where she struck. “Aww, come on,” Knave whined, grabbing the wound in a small attempt at comforting it. Following the defeat of the pirate invaders and Marshall Rihawk, the village had been surprisingly solemn. Well, not so much surprisingly, as Art and Sid had later noted: Marshall had been something of a fixture in their community, and to learn that he had not only betrayed them but had planned it all along was... sobering, to put it kindly. Still, social niceties could not be so easily forgotten, and the town, or, more likely, the whole island had managed to find a few still-standing buildings, and had dedicated them to the ones who had stopped the would-be invasion, as well as the wounded. Due to the severity of his wounds, Knave had managed to gain an entire room to himself, and some would say the entire house, for few would dare trespass into the building that housed someone who had gone toe-to-toe with the traitor himself. That is, everyone except their doctor. Stormy humphed, leaning back into a convenient dresser. “Still, the amount of blood you lost was ridiculous. A normal person would’ve died.” “I COULD HAVE DIED?!” Knave cried, his eyes popping out of his head. However, the sudden motion managed to dislodge one of his bandages, and a small fountain of blood immediately spurted out. “Idiot!” Stormy cried, delivering another blow which knocked her captain unconscious, “this is why you should take it easy, damn you!” Despite a rather, err, profitable night for the Majin first mate/money glutton named D’Artagnan, the necessities of sleep are never ceasing, try as one might to avoid them. And so, the blond-haired young man had taken the opportunity of the dawn to catch a few Zs. And so he lay, on the roof of a randomly picked, still-standing house, sleeping peacefully.... Peacefully.... ...Peacefull- “YYYESSSS!!!!” The entire house shook, such was the intensity of the yell! Giving a sudden start, Art’s weight shifted drastically, and the roof beneath him gave way! Without even a yell of his own, the Majin smashed through a few random beams and crashed down into Knave’s room. All those who were present in it stopped suddenly. “Son of a-” D’Artagnan muttered angrily as he pulled himself to his feet, dusting off his robes in the process, before turning to face his friends. “WHAT IS IT?!” he yelled, nearly matching the volume of the yell from earlier. “Oh,” Knave said simply, lifting a hand, “Yo, Art!” “DON’T ‘Yo, Art!’ ME!” the first mate cried, materializing on the bed and grabbing Knave by his shirt, yanking him up, “I WAS TRYING TO CATCH SOME SLEEP AND THEN YOU-” “It wasn’t me,” Knave said simply. The Majin paused. “Oh...” he said softly as he slowly placed Knave back into his previous position, “then who-?” “Oh happy day, oh happy day~” Sid sang, almost dancing around the room, though, while much quieter than the yell earlier, was still somewhat noticeable in the room, “it’s a beautiful day~~!” “Why’s he so happy?” Art asked, his eyes squinted at the navigator while a cartoonish sweatdrop fell down his head. “Knave asked Pura to join the crew,” Stormy replied simply, as she busied herself while cleaning up spare bandages, towels, and the like, “and she accepted.” “Oh...” Art paused, “Without consulting us?” “Yep,” Stormy answered. The Majin stayed silent for a few more moments, while Stormy kept cleaning, Sid kept celebrating, and Knave was bemusedly checking his bandages to make sure that he wasn’t going to start bleeding again. “You know,” D’Artagnan finally said, “compared to how the rest of us have joined the crew this is rather anticlimactic...” “Especially considering that we’re in the Grand Line now,” Stormy contributed. There was another long pause. “Well, maybe the Grand Line will be easier than we thought,” Art commented hopefully. The former Shichibukai leaned back in his large, plush leather chair, lifting up a wineglass filled with the finest potion that could be possibly found on the Grand Line. He took a long sip, savoring the beverage’s taste and texture, and then lowered his hand. He breathed out, some tension going out of his shoulders. A pity about Marshall-kun, he thought, he had just the right qualities to make it far in this organization. But accidents happen, especially to those who can’t afford them. Almost offhandedly, the former Shichibukai tapped a small button on his fine mahogany desk. The door to his large office opened, and an aide rushed in, carefully camouflaging any fear he had on his face, so as not to potentially anger his employer over weakness. “Who did you say was waiting again?” the former Shichibukai asked, tilting his head lazily to the side. “S-s-sirius-sama, sir,” the aide stammered, mentally cursing himself for such a slip up. His master’s head twitched at the stutter, then relaxed again, deciding to ignore it. “Then send him in.” The aide nodded, then all but ran to get out of the room. The former Shichibukai's aura alone was enough to terrify some of the strongest men in this half of the Grand Line, and the fact that all of his commanders didn’t react... they were monsters as well. A much younger man than the former Shichibukai walked in, grinning slightly and showing off his heavily pointed teeth, as if he had a mouth full of canines. “It’s good to see you,” the former Shichibukai said simply, then raised another glass that had been filled with wine in the aide’s absence. “A drink?” “Nah,” the newcomer said, his voice deep, basso, and a bit gravelly, “I don’t drink that shit.” “Witty as ever,” his boss said dryly. “Cut to the chase and tell me why you called me back.” “I just wanted to ask you how you were progressing in your job,” the former Shichibukai said innocently, though there was a gleam of cruelty in his eyes. “Done,” the other man replied, “we were on our way to check the latest bounties when you called us back.” “Most excellent,” his boss replied, seemingly pulling a paper out of thin air, “then, if you are truly done, perhaps this request would interest you.” He slid it across his desk, and the other man picked it up. He read it for several moments, then his grin grew even wider. “Is this real?” he asked. “Received it from a Vice Admiral’s hand. It’s authenticity is certain.” “ZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZA!” the other man laughed, throwing his head back. He continued to laugh away for several minutes, before composing himself. He set the request back down on the desk, still wiping tears from his eyes. “Sure, I’ll do the damn job. It’ll be fun.” And with that, the other man headed for the door. It was time for the hunt to begin. Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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