The mix of helplessness and pride on Rouge's face crushed the last stone in Kael's chest to dust.
He let out a long breath and finally eased.
"Sister Rouge, we should not stay here. The World Government is a mess right now, but some fool could still follow a thread. Pack what you need. We are leaving."
Rouge nodded without a flicker of doubt.
"All right. Give me a minute."
She went to the bedroom and soon returned with a small bundle. Kael blinked at how little it was.
"That is all?"
"Just a few changes of clothes." She set the bundle on the table, then turned back, movements suddenly careful.
From a hidden compartment beneath the bed, she lifted a long object wrapped layer by layer in fine silk.
The silk was Roger's favorite fiery red, stitched in gold with the crew's jolly roger.
She set it on the table and unwrapped it, cloth folding away like petals.
First came a plain western sword.
Its scabbard was a deep wine red, golden filigree winding over it. In the room's light it smoldered like flame.
Even sheathed, its edge seemed to press on the air.
Beside it lay an old-fashioned flintlock, pale as ivory and elegant in its simplicity.
Kael's gaze hardened.
He knew them like his own hands.
Roger's blade, Ace, and his pistol, Ann.
"This is…" His voice went rough.
"Roger left them for you." Rouge's eyes gentled, like spring water. Her fingers brushed the cold scabbard as if stroking a memory.
"Before he sailed for the Sabaody Archipelago last time, he took them out special. He kept muttering, Kael is always swinging some beat-up blade. That will not do. I should give him my treasures."
A helpless smile tugged at her mouth.
"Then that fool forgot all about it when he left. He was like that at home, always misplacing things. A headache and a heartache all at once."
There was no blame in her tone. Only a fondness so warm it brimmed.
"Now they are where they belong." She slid the sword and pistol across to him.
Kael reached out. His fingertips found the hilt and the pistol's cool engraving. For a moment he could see the man's bright laugh again.
He buckled Ace and Ann at his hips.
Light warped around the weapons. The air hummed, almost too soft to hear.
A heartbeat later, sword and pistol melted into the background and vanished.
Kael stood to leave with Rouge.
"By the way, Kael," Rouge said, as if remembering, "before he left, Roger told me Mr. Garp would come to keep me safe. Is it really fine to just go like this?"
"Garp?"
Kael's mouth twitched. His expression turned very odd.
"The old goat? Spare me." He waved without courtesy.
"Strong enough, sure, but the title of Marine Hero could not be more sensitive. He would get you out the front door and a World Government agent would be knocking at the back. Leave professional work to professionals."
Kael kept talking. "Besides, that old man is never reliable. Count on him and the flowers will be cold by the time he shows…"
"Which old man are you calling unreliable, you brat?"
The bellow detonated outside, followed by a thunderous crash.
The sturdy wall burst inward like paper. Stone flew. Dust billowed.
A burly figure stormed through the man-shaped hole, a fist the size of a cookpot wrapped in inky Armament Haki driving straight for the back of Kael's head.
It was a punch to split an island.
It hit nothing.
Kael flickered aside with Rouge an instant before impact, sliding several meters to let the blow rake empty air. He even had time to wave a hand and sweep the dust away on a breeze.
"Tch." He looked at the man frozen in a follow-through at the broken wall and snapped, "Garp, you fossil. Is this how you say hello? You came to demolish the South Blue?"
"Bah." Garp withdrew his fist and puffed away imaginary dust, eyes blazing. He roared, voice rich as a war drum, "I am here to take someone. Why are you here? Was Loguetown's mess your doing?"
"My doing? That is your boss's fault. Public execution turned circus, and now you want me to take the blame?" Kael did not give an inch.
"And you dare say you came to take her. At your speed, Sister Rouge's kid would be old enough to run errands."
"What was that?" A vein throbbed at Garp's temple.
"I said you are old. Did your ears go soft?" Kael eased Rouge behind him and tilted his chin.
Rouge, standing there watching two living legends bicker like schoolboys, did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
She tugged Kael's sleeve and whispered, "Kael, Mr. Garp means no harm."
"Maybe so. He is still sick in the head," Kael muttered.
Garp's hearing was sharp as ever. He barked, "Say that again, brat."
"Make me."
They leaned in, foreheads nearly touching, wills crackling like flint.
Rouge hurried between them. "All right, please, both of you. No fighting indoors."
Garp glanced at Rouge and the heat bled off his presence. He scratched his head, flashed a bright grin, and laughed. "Sorry, sorry, Miss Rouge. Did I scare you? It is just that this punk gets on my nerves."
Kael rolled his eyes.
After the ruckus, they finally sat down to talk. Next to the wall-sized hole, of course.
Garp's purpose matched Kael's. Roger had asked them both to protect Rouge.
"So where are you taking her?" Garp asked through an absent-minded nose-pick.
"Somewhere no one knows, where she can carry the child to term in peace. In short, far from a walking natural disaster like you," Kael said, full of disgust.
"Listen to you, as if you were a saint." Garp snorted. "You are the Waveguide King who wrecked Marineford. The whole world is watching you. Miss Rouge is safest far from you."
"Safer than with the Marine Hero. Wherever you go, trouble follows."
"You."
"You what."
Sparks flew again in the air between them.
Garp gave way first, exhaling. For once he grew serious.
"Fine. I have a place that is absolutely safe."
Kael arched a brow for him to go on.
"Windmill Village in the East Blue," Garp said. "My hometown. Quiet and out of the way. No one would think the Pirate King's blood would hide there. I will ask the village chief to help keep watch. It will be foolproof."
Kael thought.
It did beat dragging a pregnant woman across the world like a headless fly.
The East Blue was the weakest of the Four Seas and far from the storms. Windmill Village was Garp's home. With that tie, the safety odds rose.
"All right." He nodded at last. "But I am escorting her myself. I do not trust you. If you get a wild hair and sail for Marineford by mistake, what then?"
"Rubbish. Am I that kind of man?" Garp leapt up.
They set out at once. Kael and Garp together would guard Rouge on the way to the East Blue's Windmill Village.
Days later, Windmill Village.
The great vanes turned lazily on the hill. The village drowsed by the bay, air rich with grass and earth.
Under Garp's arrangements, everything went smoothly.
Rouge took the name Luna and settled in.
With her savings, she rented a small shop beside the tavern by the gate.
"A flower shop?" A headscarfed girl with a soft smile leaned in. The tavern owner's daughter, Makino.
"Yes." Rouge, rather Luna, smiled bashfully. "Flowers are all I know."
Makino's eyes lit. "Perfect. The village needs one. If you ever need help, you come to me."
Warm-hearted as ever, Makino helped, and the flower shop opened fast.
Fresh blooms from the back hills filled the little space with fragrance and added a bright splash to the quiet village.
The locals quickly took to their gentle, quiet new neighbor.
Kael and Garp lingered two days, long enough to watch Rouge's days find their course. Only then did they truly relax.
That night, on the cliff above the sea.
"All set?" Kael asked.
"Yeah." Garp's reply was solemn. "I already sent word that I found the Pirate King's widow's trail and am pursuing."
"And then?"
Garp bared his teeth in a grin. "Then the Waveguide King, Kael Grylls, ambushed me and tried to seize her. The Marine Hero and the Waveguide King fought on a deserted island. The island sank. Kael escaped with the target. Vanished."
Kael chuckled. "Sounds like a bad third-rate play."
"They will buy it," Garp said, eyes narrowing. "If we fight, never mind an island. We could flip half of Marineford again and they still would not doubt it."
"So you want to make the fake fight real?" Kael flexed his hands. His joints crackled.
"What else?" Garp clenched his fist. Armament Haki flooded black over his arm. "If we do not go hard, how do we fool those Government idiots? Besides, I want to see how much you have grown."
Kael drew the naginata from his back. The blade's cold gleam caught the moon.
"Likewise." A proud smile cut his mouth. "Last time at Marineford was not enough. But you pay your own medical bills. I am broke."
"Rubbish. As if it is decided you are winning."
…
Grand Line, a nameless barren island.
Clouds banked low. Lightning stitched the sky.
A mountain peak sheared flat with a single blow. Shattered stone fountained like shells.
Garp burst from the smoke, fist howling through the air toward Kael's face.
"Fist of Love."
"What does that even mean?" Kael did not dodge. The naginata swept up from below.
Blade-born shockwave and iron fist collided.
The blast tore outward. The island bucked and screamed. The ground split into chasms that fell away into black.
Far off, aboard a stealth ship of Cipher Pol, black-suited agents watched through special lenses, faces pale.
…
A wound gaped across Garp's chest to the bone, blood spilling bright against the white of his signature suit.
He coughed, staggered back, and grinned. "Brat. You hit hard."
"Right back at you." Kael stood with his blade in hand, blood at the corner of his mouth. He had taken his share.
The scene had to be real.
On the CP ship, no one spoke. Shock strangled their voices.
"Vice Admiral Garp is hurt."
"That Waveguide King actually drew Garp's blood."
Kael drew a steadying breath and raised his blade high. Air and earth over the island thrummed to a strange shared beat.
"Garp, take my last strike."
Power gathered at the point, a dense sphere of ruin, warping the space around it.
Garp's face hardened. He set his stance. Every drop of Haki rushed to his right hand.
"Come on then, brat."
Light swallowed the island.
A mushroom cloud climbed for the heavens.
When the glare died, the island was gone from the charts. A bottomless whirlpool boiled where it had been, wreckage riding the churn.
Garp burst up from the sea, hacking water. He glared after Kael's vanishing presence and roared until the horizon threw the sound back.
"Bastard. I will never let you go."
The fury rolled over the empty ocean again and again.
Kael: I will take the Oscar for this one.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don't forget to add this story to your Library, drop a review, and leave a Power Stone if you enjoyed it!
If you're itching to see what happens next, check out the advanced chapters on my Patron!
[email protected]/_theon
Change @ to "a"