Chapter 24
The Red-Haired Pirates are all very tight-lipped. Even the crew members who would normally only show a hint of interest in reading the newspaper would give a dry laugh and change the subject today; no one would lend you their newspaper.
The more they act this way, the more you want to know what the newspapers actually wrote, to make them so tight-lipped that you're distracted even when you're helping in the kitchen. They're also so afraid you'll hurt yourself that they try to persuade you to leave.
"You don't look too well. Just wait for dinner today."
Lu's words made sense, and you really weren't in the mood to help. You nodded in agreement to Lu's concern, said goodbye to the crew members who were also helping in the kitchen, and then left the kitchen.
Your personality dictates that you won't sit there making noise to attract their attention like the crew members waiting for meals in the mess hall, thus passing the time while waiting for food.
You still haven't given up on reading today's newspaper, and the crew, who were following Beckman's instructions, didn't have a newspaper in their hands either. Only Lyme, who was sitting on the deck, was reading the newspaper.
You could tell from Rem's expression that he wasn't in a good mood. Shanks, who was standing next to him, probably knew why Rem was unhappy, and occasionally added a few words of comfort, reminding Rem to control his expression.
Judging from Lyme's reaction last night, he would probably agree if you made the request, but that might not be the case with Shanks, who was next to Lyme. This makes you hesitant, as you're curious about the newspaper's contents, wondering whether you should go over and strike up a conversation with them.
Thinking about how you asked many people on your way to and from the kitchen, you decided to approach them anyway to get the information you wanted. You'd already asked so many people; what difference would a couple more make?
To your surprise, Shanks and Rem react very differently when they see you.
"Let me guess, you want to ask about the newspaper, right?"
Shanks' words jolted Lyme, who was still sitting on the deck in a daze, into a sudden realization. He quickly put the newspaper behind his back, pretending that he didn't have any newspaper in his hand.
Rem's actions stunned both you and Shanks. Shanks, who was the first to react, burst into laughter, patting Rem on the shoulder as he laughed.
"Let her see if she wants to. Hiding it will only make her more concerned. In the end, only Baker would think so much."
Clearly, Beckman had also mentioned the newspaper to them, but Shanks' words carried more weight as captain. Sure enough, Lyme, who had been hiding the newspaper behind his back, took it out after Shanks' prompting.
"Are you really going to watch it? I still think it's better if you don't."
Lyme approached you, seeking your opinion in an uncertain tone. At the end, there seemed to be a hint of complaint in his voice.
In any other situation, you might have given up. But their reaction was something you couldn't ignore, no matter how you looked at it. Ignoring Shanks's unmistakable gaze from not far away, you looked at Rem, who still hadn't handed you the newspaper.
"But I want to see it, is that not allowed?"
Accompanied by Shanks's teasing monotone, Rem handed you the newspaper, and the gazes on you shifted from one to two. Under their watchful eyes, you opened the clearly tampered page, and the headline "The Red-Haired Pirates Did This Kind of Thing" burst into view.
The familiar sense of déjà vu—is this how every world likes to attract attention? Scrolling down from the large text, you see one half of the headline section featuring photos of you playing hopscotch with the Red-Haired Pirates on the deck, while the other half features current "Seven Warlords of the Sea," including Crocodile.
Upon seeing Crocodile's face, the terror etched into your DNA becomes clearer with the black-and-white photograph. Realizing there are others on deck, you slowly exhale and continue looking down.
The accompanying text first introduces the exploits of the Red-Haired Pirates, then veers into the current state of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, using extremely ambiguous language to describe your relationship with the "Seven Warlords," making you doubt your eyes just by looking at it, until you see the final conclusion: "The Red-Haired Pirates kidnapped the families of the Seven Warlords...?"
The entire report didn't mention any connection between you and any of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, but it enlarged your photo and forcibly linked you to the Red-Haired Pirates and the Seven Warlords of the Sea. You can only assume that this was Crocodile's doing.
As for why the "Seven Warlords of the Sea" weren't explicitly mentioned, it's probably a tactic used by the news agency to attract readers. Unsuspecting readers might doubt your identity and the report's veracity. Only those who know you, Crocodile, and the Red-Haired Pirates understand the immense impact this report has on you and where the news agency got its information.
If I'm not mistaken, after today, when you leave the Red-Haired Pirates and seek refuge with other pirates, they will be hesitant because of "Red-Haired" and "one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea." Even if they aren't, they won't accept you; nobody wants to get into trouble because of someone with an unknown identity.
As for seeking the Navy's protection? Forget it. The Seven Warlords of the Sea and the Navy have a cooperative relationship. If you seek the Navy's protection, wouldn't that be like walking into a trap? Even if you claim to be a law-abiding citizen, as long as Crocodile speaks up, the Navy won't keep you, whose identity is unknown, nor will they offend Crocodile, with whom they have a cooperative relationship, for your sake.
What appears to be a tabloid report is actually Crocodile's way of cutting off all your escape routes. You know you shouldn't be thinking about these things, but your fear of Crocodile makes it impossible for you to control your chaotic thoughts.
It sounded like someone was calling your name, interspersed with Beckman's name. Still catching your breath, you paid no attention to the voices around you until someone snatched the newspaper from your hand, and you finally noticed Beckman, who had somehow appeared on the deck and was looking at you with a headache.
The moment their eyes met, Beckman clicked his tongue in unusual displeasure, then turned to look at the two who had called him over.
"We told her not to show it to her, didn't you ever think that this report would turn her into this?"
Perhaps your reaction really startled Lem and Shanks, neither of them refuted Beckman's words, and Lem, who gave you the newspaper, looked like he had done something wrong and was being scolded by his parents.
But you know, what terrified you wasn't them, but the mastermind behind the report. Even though you knew Beckman wouldn't really reprimand them, you still couldn't help but speak up for them.
"No, it's nothing. I was just scared by this fabricated report. Really, I'm fine."
Your voice made Beckman turn around. Perhaps your smile was too unsightly, because Beckman glanced at you and let out a helpless sigh.
"You don't look alright. Should we have Hongo come back and take a look at you?"
You don't think it's an easy task that would take you almost a whole day out of town, and you feel that you can manage your emotions with just a little time, so there's no need to bother your hometown.
"No need, I'll just rest by myself for a while. Hongo must really want to rest after he's finished with his work, so it's best not to disturb him."
Perhaps because of the previous experience, Beckman didn't continue to persuade you, only saying that he would have someone bring you lunch. Lyme probably wanted to say something to you, but Shanks, noticing your unusual mood, stopped him.
-
A dimly lit room is never a good place to calm your emotions; in fact, it intensifies your fear of that report. Perhaps because there's no one else around, while you were barely able to control your wild thoughts on the deck, your chaotic mind was already pondering the deeper meaning of that report.
The fact that Crocodile didn't explicitly state which Shichibukai relative you were from was probably Crocodile's last act of kindness towards you, and also a result of a news agency's manipulation. But even without it being explicitly stated, you couldn't imagine who else you could seek protection from after leaving the Red Crew.
Looking for Whitebeard? Before this report, Shanks also said that this idea was not very feasible. After this report, don't you think Whitebeard would be willing to shelter a "family member" of an unknown person who may even be a former challenger?
You wouldn't believe Crocodile for not anticipating where you'd run off to; otherwise, why would he use a seemingly insignificant report to cut off all your escape routes?
The mere thought of a specific name makes you tremble uncontrollably, and your already shaky mind is further aggravated by a splitting headache. The amplified pain brings tears to your eyes.
It wasn't until the rhythmic knocking at the door that my chaotic mind finally spared a little attention for the person outside.
"Are you alright? I heard from Beckman that you haven't had lunch yet, so I thought you might want to eat in your room and brought it to you."
"Could you open the door for me? I'm a little worried about your condition."
It was Hongo's voice. Perhaps it was the weariness that Hongo's voice couldn't hide, or perhaps it was the sense of security that his profession brought. You calmed your uncontrollable breathing, got out of bed, and opened the door for him.
The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by the aroma of the food Lu had prepared, as well as the unique fragrance of the infirmary. However, what first came into view was Hongo's face, which made no attempt to hide his worry.
"Sure enough, you don't look well. Why don't you go to the infirmary and let me take a look at you?"
You are very grateful that your hometown came to visit you as soon as they finished their work, but please forgive you for not wanting to go anywhere for the time being.
"No, I don't want to leave the room right now. Thank you for bringing me lunch."
Honjo naturally understood the implied urgency behind your polite words, but whether he was willing to cooperate was another matter entirely. Honjo raised an eyebrow, his eyes revealing a knowing smile.
"It's okay, I can come into your room and watch over it for you."
Only after Hongo said that did you notice he was carrying a first-aid kit in his other hand. Clearly, Hongo had planned everything beforehand. This made you, who already had no energy for a physical altercation, give up struggling, and your gaze towards Hongo held a hint of helplessness.
"You win... Dr. Hongo."
Beneath Hongo's silent smile, you opened the wooden door, which was only a crack open, and stepped aside to let him in. Carrying a tray and a first-aid kit, Hongo first placed the tray on the only table in the room before sitting down in the chair that matched the table.
It was more of an observation than a check-up, wasn't it? Sitting on the bed, letting Hongo scrutinize you with his gaze, you let out a sigh. Hongo, who had just put down his stethoscope, wiped away the remaining tears from the corners of your eyes with his rough fingertips.
The unexpected touch made you instinctively back away, but you forgot that no matter how far you moved, the distance between you and your seat remained the same. Meanwhile, Hongo, completely oblivious to the intrusion, casually inquired about your well-being.
"You've been crying? But you still look terrible."
"Perhaps you need a hug? It's said that a hug can relieve tension and stress when people are sad. Want to give it a try?"
Hongo's series of words left you momentarily stunned and unable to process what was happening. By the time you came to your senses, you had already followed Hongo's words and hugged him, whose scent still lingered from his bath.
You heard a heartbeat that wasn't as calm as it seemed, and breathing that was a little erratic because of your approach. What on earth happened that made you touch Hongo like this? Realizing that things were going wrong, you snapped out of your daze and were about to let go when Hongo, who had expected you to do so, spoke up and stopped you.
"Don't you want to hold me a little longer?"
"Fine, if you don't want to, there's nothing I can do. Now it seems, maybe I was just too tired to make that suggestion."
You could clearly hear the disappointment in his words, and considering Hongo's decisive action of coming to find you as soon as he got back to the ship and took a shower, it seemed you couldn't let go immediately.
"Then... let's hug for a little longer."
Because of the angle, you didn't see the smile on Hongo's face after getting the answer he wanted; you could only hear his joyful thanks for your reply.
"Thank you."
Hugs do work. At least after the hug, your body, which had been trembling with anxiety, returned to normal, and Hongo, who couldn't hide his fatigue when he arrived, also looked much better.
If you hadn't insisted that Hongo go back to rest, he probably would have waited until you finished eating before leaving. You watched Hongo leave with the first-aid kit until his figure faded from your sight, and only then, after calming down, did you realize how strange your interaction had been.
Would a normal doctor-patient relationship be this intimate?
You must have been terrified to agree to this suggestion that you would never normally agree to.
-
At the same time, the people of Alabasta were expressing their indignation at the injustice done to their national heroes, as evidenced by the headlines in their newspapers this morning.
Crocodile, who was essentially the mastermind behind the report, casually tossed the newspaper aside. Even though Crocodile had already seen Morgans's photos, seeing you so unguarded in the Red-Haired Pirates again still filled him with helplessness and anger at your courageous and resourceful actions.
He's gone this far, and you still don't feel threatened?
It's no wonder it's a flower he snatched; even living in the ocean without soil, it continues to grow and bloom, even more so than when it was by his side.
Jealous men usually don't have good endings, but Crocodile, who rarely has free time, can hardly help but think about this issue. In terms of food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, isn't it better than what you have with Hawkeye or Shanks? It's just that you're relatively less free, but you're safe, he can provide what you want, and he'll be with you.
What exactly are you dissatisfied with?
Meanwhile, Robin, having finished reading the newspaper, sighed silently to herself. Even without her noticing, she could imagine your reaction upon seeing this report. Already terrified of Crocodile, you're probably trembling in some corner of Shanks' ship, right?
Robin did consider suggesting Crocodile change his approach, but she felt that the way things had turned out between them was largely due to Crocodile's own actions.
With that thought in mind, Robin dismissed the idea and prayed for you in the Red-Haired Pirates.
I pray that you can survive in that vast ocean.
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