Chapter 16: New Home, the Nun's Bargain
"Flowers, flowers~"
On the shore of a new island, the Elbaf ship lay anchored, its hull looming over the surf. Linlin and the children clustered along the sand, wide-eyed as blossoms in the grass twirled and sang. They turned, equally astonished, toward the nun.
"This is my magic," the nun said gently. Wisps of soul-light shimmered in her hands and drifted toward several great trees. In an instant, the trunks shivered, branches rustled like limbs waking from a dream, and the trees began to sway with the flowers. "Big tree, big tree~"
"Let them keep you company for a while," the nun told the children with a warm smile, her gaze flicking toward Roy where he stood with a sword at his side.
To the world, the Sheep's House was a refuge for problem children. To her, two were the most complicated. One was Linlin, who hurt others without meaning to and possessed absurd strength, demanding constant care and careful coaxing. The other was Roy, so obedient and smart that he was, paradoxically, the most troublesome. Intelligence always meant trouble. Since learning swordplay under Redding, Roy's ability had grown frighteningly fast. He never lost his head even in a fight. That kind of calm in a child was more unsettling than Linlin's raw power.
"Okay," Roy said, nodding as he squeezed a flower Homie's cheek between two fingers.
"Good." The nun's eyes softened. She turned and led the Elbaf giants inland to begin building.
With the giants' help, houses rose almost as quickly as toys in a giant's workshop. Watching Roy indulge the flower and tree Homies, the nun felt briefly satisfied. No matter how clever or strong, a child was a child. He would be easy to read, easy to placate. Or so she told herself.
Soon after, in the forest, the nun and the giants had walked a long path beneath the canopy. Those hauling timber began muttering about Linlin.
"It is unbelievable," one grumbled. "Roy is such a good boy, yet his friend is so dangerous."
"Ahem, watch your mouth. Do not let Roy hear that."
They said to stop, but the grumbling continued, low as distant thunder.
Back on the shore, Roy glanced toward the forest and then sat on the beach with Pandora in the crook of his arm, sword across his lap, listening to the tide. The flower and tree Homies pranced at the edge of the grass. He had pretended interest for the nun's sake; that much was necessary. A child could be sharp and steady, yes—but there was a limit. He could not go around acting like a tiny detective exposing every secret. Nor could he be so composed that adults forgot he was a child at all.
"Oh? Brother Roy is not interested in them?" Linlin stood among flowers and swaying trunks, blinking at his back.
"Interested, but not very," Roy said lightly.
"I do not understand," Linlin murmured.
Roy offered no further explanation. He looked out at the blue, endless water and pinched Pandora's plump, glowing cheek. The brand-new Homie had tried to scorch him earlier. He had planned to treat him fairly and break the habit of teasing him. Unfortunately, Pandora had earned his lesson. Training was required.
"Squeak, squeak, squeak," he said, lifting Pandora like a toy and turning him in his hands. The thought struck him that collecting Homies would be delightful—some for decoration, some coerced into learning cooking or music. Even the hardest-hearted merchant might have wept to hear such a plan. Roy's own heart, if cut open, was pitch black.
The giants finished faster than any human crew could hope to. Building human-sized homes took them no more effort than whittling a whistle. Before long, the nun gathered everyone at their new Sheep's House nestled among hills and trees, and the Elbaf escorts returned to their island.
On the lawn, the nun stood framed by the doorway, her smile stretched wider than usual as she faced her little flock. She thought it reassuring; from Roy's vantage, it looked like the painted grin of a nightmare doll, eyes narrowed to slivers, a cigarette trapped between thin pale fingers. Change the habit for a pointed hat and she would have been an evil witch from a village tale.
"Is this our home from now on?" asked a fuzzy little boy, tugging at Roy's sleeve.
"Home," Roy echoed, ruffling the child's hair. He tilted his chin up to regard the fresh wood, the simple eaves, the door that stuck slightly on its frame. Home was a distant word. Too distant to be anything but cruel. The old man who had adopted him had died eight hundred years ago by Roy's reckoning. As for the parents who had abandoned him, he had no wish to see them. If they had cast him aside, then he would erase them from his world.
Earth, the life before rebirth—that was farther still. Sometimes what divides people is not only time or distance, but an entire world. He had known despair, but there was no return. When he had fallen back eight centuries, the war had just ended and the world lay in chaos. He had chosen to let the rules of time and space in his body explode and carry him where they would.
The nun came to his side. She looked at his faraway expression and patted his head with a tender motion that somehow felt practiced. "Do not be sad," she said sweetly. "Every child is eventually welcomed by a kind family. You are no exception."
"Thank you, Sister," Roy replied, smiling up at her. He waited until she turned back inside to pinch Pandora a bit harder. He detested liars. It made him want to swindle them back, and that was exhausting.
While the other children ran whooping through the grass, Roy slipped into the trees with Pandora and his sword. He scanned the surroundings, voice dropping to a whisper. Pandora nodded, rose in a lazy float to circle the canopy, and returned.
"How is it?"
"No one around," Pandora reported.
"Good. Wait here. I will practice."
He had sent Pandora to search for someone, though he suspected the person was not nearby. Lately, half-formed details from memory had nagged him. The future Streusen of Big Mom's crew, the man with the Cook Cook Fruit—during this period, he should also be hiding somewhere on this island.
Steel whispered. Roy drew his sword and moved through the forms. "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh." The blade carved green shadows through the shade, the rhythm as steady as breath.
Days passed. The sun wheeled, the moon returned, and a new year arrived as gently as foam on sand. The children still played under the bright sky. Roy practiced, sparred with empty air, and entertained the nun with his quiet little performances of innocence. Late at night, while the children slept, the nun tallied prices in a neat book—always revising the figures for Linlin and Roy. Pandora was kept close, tucked in Roy's arms whenever he moved. He barely let him stray from reach.
In idle moments, Roy weighed futures. Should he let Linlin devour the nun as in the tale yet to be told, or put an end to the woman himself with a clean thrust? A warm, happy family indeed.
On the grass, the nun watched her charges and smiled at the sound of their laughter. Soon she would leave for a while to meet with the CP agents, ready to negotiate an excellent price for her beautiful, troublesome merchandise.
<><><><><>
[Check Out My Patreon For +40 Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[Every 100 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]
[Join Our Discord Community For Updates & Events]
[https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9]