Chapter 29: Whirlwind of Hearts

The night was a blur of drinks, conversations, kisses, sex, repeat. After dinner, Law took her to a bar, where the bartender named Nigel did a double-take at the sight of Law and brought them excellent cocktails on the house. While nursing their drinks, they engaged in a verbal spar, each trying to figure out the others' activities for the last two years without treading into the dangerous territory of work. It was a fun game, a linguistic Truth-or-Dare, and it reminded Spade of how clever Law was and consequently why she'd had such trouble trusting him in the first place.

They spoke of bizarre new islands they'd come across, each trying to one-up the next. ("Have you been to Bivenia? They have cats who burp up silver pieces instead of furballs." "Alided has trees that talk." "That's hardly interesting, haven't you been to Sweet Mom's territory? All their trees talk and shit cotton candy." "No, but each individual branch of a tree is a conscious being so you end up with schizophrenic trees. When they grow a new branch, the preexisting branches vote whether to amputate the new branch before it fully forms." "Oh, how democratic. Does it work?" "Of course not. Democracies are futile.")

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth drink, when Spade's mind was in a pleasant fuzzy haze and she was laughing like she was a groupie in front of her idol celebrity, Spade leaned over and kissed Law. He was talking about something nerdy like the chemical composition of Kairouseki and its theoretical interaction with Devil's Fruits, and Spade was only half-listening. It was hard to tell if Law was drunk or just nervous because he was speaking faster than normal, but she didn't know what the nerves would be for. Is this how he picks up everyone he sleeps with? He's such a dork. He's drunk and all he can talk about is science. He was mid-sentence ("So if Pyrobloin can be injected into clouds to make sky islands, then it must be its bonding properties with water molecules in the cell that—") when Spade thought, God, I really fucking missed him, and then kissed him promptly.

She remembered the taste of martinis and cigarettes, then Law's lips met hers hungrily and he pulled her so that she was nearly sitting on him, all sexy science teacher seduction tactics gone. Here, Spade's memory began to fade from concrete events to flashbacks interspersed with colorful emotions. She remembered making out in public like teenagers and not caring, then being kicked out of the bar for indecency when Law began to pull her dress a bit too far up. Law Roomed them to his room, on the highest floor of the hotel the bar was located in, and the privacy unleashed whatever self-restraint they had left. She remembered the scratch of Law's goatee against her cheek, his teeth marking the skin at her neck, before Law sank to his knees and pulled her underwear down to her ankles. He hiked her dress over her hips and then Law's face was buried between her thighs as he made her see heaven and beyond, but of course not before the snide comment of, "You should be so grateful to have the future Pirate King on his knees giving you head." She could barely recall her dress coming off, too dazed from the orgasm and alcohol together, but Law did murmur something at the sight of the Phoenix Jolly Roger on her back. She remembered gripping the silk sheets underneath her as Law fucked her from behind, his mouth biting her neck, his touch scorching and invasive and consuming. She remembered his body on top of hers, his tongue in her mouth, as her arms wrapped around his body and they reached an intense rhythm and climbed to paradise together before falling through its abyss.

Spade didn't know what time it was when sobriety finally began to settle back in her mind, and her body ached with satiation. She was covered in sweat that she wiped off with the sheets. She turned to Law, whose eyes were closed as he recovered his breath, and cleaned him up too before throwing the sheets off the bed.

"Two fucking years," he said, eyes finally opening. The product in hair made it stick determinedly up in the direction that Spade had run her hand through, leaving Law with the impression of a deeply satisfied broccoli.

Spade stretched out her limbs, relishing a weightlessness that she had missed dearly. "Long time to go without a proper lay."

"Really?" Law's lips curled. "No one?"

"Don't look so pleased with yourself."

"I'm not," he lied. He turned to his side so they spoke face-to-face. "Not even Marco?"

"My captain now," she answered shortly. "Off limits." She did not add that Marco preferred to sleep with a certain, sultry historian to whom he often delivered translation work in person, even though he was the fucking Captain of the Phoenix Pirates, not a messenger boy.

"Sure." Law's index finger traced a tattoo right over her left breast, where her heart beat against her ribcage: a solid black spade, overlayed with a heart with familiar wings spiraling out of its borders. It didn't take a genius to know what the heart tattoo was inspired by, not when Law's chest blared a much larger version of it.

He placed his lips to the tattoo, causing Spade to let out a little breath of surprise. Law lied back on his arm without any indication of wanting anything more.

"I always did want my sign on you somewhere," he said.

"Don't gloat," she said.

"I'm not," he said again. "It looks good though."

He ran a hand through her hair, and it made Spade pause. Something about Law just felt off. She knew they were happy to see each other, but the way Law had acted since his time in Fiora—deliberately declaring his location, enough that every Fioran citizen knew who he was and where he stayed—was incredibly unlike him. Even their publicity tonight, eating at a fine restaurant, making out in a bar…nothing about Law was subtle, but their actions tonight were too casual, bordering rash.

"Is something wrong?" asked Spade suddenly.

He fingered a strand of her hair. "Of course not. Dinner was supreme, we got free drinks, and had great, if not long overdue, sex. What would make you think something was wrong?"

"Not tonight. Just something in general." Sinomet's residentials were built in a way that allowed air currents to naturally cool the rooms. The door to the balcony was left wide open, and the thin cotton curtains billowed with the incoming wind. "It's not like you to be this blatant."

"About?"

"Everything. Being here with your crew…staying here for as long as you have. Even tonight. It was practically a date. Pirates don't do dates." Spade rested her head against Law's outstretched arm. "It's like you're asking someone to find you and fight you."

Law's fingers ghosted her bare skin, and it made her shiver more than the night breezes did. He met her gaze in a way that wasn't avoidant but also wasn't fully honest. Knowing someone well was a privilege, but knowing Law took significant effort and, more than others, depended on how much he was willing to give rather than how much she was willing to learn.

"I've been stalling," he said quietly.

She did not answer, feeling that Law wanted to express something that he'd longed to get off his chest for quite some time now. Outside, a Fioran nightbird began a lullaby in a peppy, major key that Spade found rather annoying. She wondered briefly if it was worth going outside to shoot it, but figured it would ruin the mood.

Law finally resumed speaking. "I think I could have found my way to Raftel without the Oharan Poneglyph. There are only so many pieces of the puzzle that you need before you can fill in the blanks on your own."

His words resonated more than they should have. Part of her wondered if Law could read her mind—did he know what she was hiding? Long had Spade guessed who was necessary to operate the National Weapon the World Government had hidden away for centuries; she did not need Poppy to translate the scroll she'd stolen from Mariejois to surmise its contents.

Spade looked at him curiously. "You have them all translated already? How'd you get Robin to do that for you?"

Law returned her gaze pensively, his lips set in a straight line as he waited for her to come to the conclusion on her own. It came slower than it should have, but when she realized it, she cursed that it hadn't occurred to her sooner.

"You can read them," she said, disbelieving.

Law nodded. "After I found the Wano scrolls, I looked for existing translations in the Underworld to see if I could learn on my own. But good translations were scarce, and it wasn't until I got to Karakuri that I got enough material to really learn the language well. Turns out Roger learned that way, too. At first, I learned it because I just needed to decipher the Poneglyphs, but now…I think it's a fitting skill for the future Pirate King to have. When I find what happened in the Void Century, I want to read it for myself, not have it translated for me."

Spade smiled at him faintly. "That's good. To really understand a history that's written in an ancient language…knowing the language is what a real king would do. That's noble."

"I'm not trying to be."

"I know." She scooted closer to him, enough that she could feel the heat roaring from his skin. "So why are you stalling?"

He exhaled and shifted so he was lying on his back and his gaze was toward the ceiling. "I don't know. At least, that's what I've been telling myself since I got here. It's just a gut feeling, and I know to trust my gut."

"But?"

"I know it's ending," said Law softly. If she listened closely, she thought his voice shook, but it wasn't because he was frightened or nervous or unsure. She couldn't pinpoint what emotion underlied that tremor. "I'm so fucking close. This is it, isn't it? Everything that my fucked up life has culminated to, from escaping Flevance under corpses to all the shit of the Donquixote crew, to Corazon dying for me…fifteen years of sailing, and this is it, isn't it? Becoming a pirate, hating the World Government, wanting to destroy Doflamingo…none of those were my choice. They happened because I was too powerless to have the option of another road. Becoming the Pirate King is the only thing that I have wanted for myself—the only thing that I chose to want. The only thing that I had the luxury of choice for. But I can't just bring myself to grab it."

She could identify it now. Law's voice shook with the intensity of a man desperately reining in his fury for the injustice of his journey. It was not like him to dwell on how unfair Life with a capital L was; there were too many tragedies across the four seas for Law to consider himself the least fortunate, and what was the point of wallowing in self-pity anyway? Law had never been the type to linger in his trauma. It was always forward and ahead with him, because if time could only move toward the future, then what could be gained from being mired in the past?

Yet, when his future was a hair's breadth away from his fingertips, Law stood frozen in the vicegrip of those torn away from him too early, trapped amidst the ghosts he'd never laid properly to rest. Revenge emerged like a corpse reanimated by Gekko Moriah, grinning wildly as it barred the path forward.

And now, Spade finally understood why Law had behaved the way he had since arriving in Fiora, his crew's presence blaring like a red flare.

He had been waiting for someone to find him, but that person wasn't her.

It was like someone had found exactly where her soul was located in her body and seared it with a glowing fire iron. She sat up abruptly and searched the ground for her clothes, feeling raw for a reason she couldn't explain.

Law grabbed her by the wrist, gray eyes flashing in danger. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What the fuck. I was telling you something serious—"

"You're waiting for Doflamingo," she cut in, voice armed with knives. "You want to settle your score before you become Pirate King. I don't have time for this shit, Law. I'm trying to dismantle the Marines, overthrow the World Government, and end slavery while I'm at it. We've been over Doflamingo a thousand fucking times and if you don't get how much of a distraction that bastard is by now, then I can't help you."

"I wasn't waiting for him."

She laughed and it rang hollow. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't want him to find you while you were dicking around here. You could've been the fucking Pirate King by now. Instead, you've been sitting on your ass because you've never been able to let him go—"

Law interrupted her. "What if I'm not meant to be the Pirate King?"

She stared at him, so taken aback by this sudden confession that it took her nearly a full minute to find her tongue again. Law's conviction to be Pirate King was a truth that never wavered for him, rooted in his bizarre, ironic belief in Fate and Destiny and his true name Water D. that he'd shared with her only fairly recently.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Law leaned against the headboard and pulled listlessly at the sheets. "I mean, what if I get to Raftel and for some reason, the Pirate King isn't supposed to be me? This isn't about Doflamingo. It's about me, the one choice that I've made for myself in my life, only for it to turn out that it didn't matter. I'm not the one who's meant to find One Piece. I'm just an ally, the plot device that carries the main storyline forward. What if the one choice—the only choice I've ever made for myself, one that wasn't born out of shitty circumstances or forced by a power greater than me, what if it's a mistake? What if…"

Law trailed off and cleared his throat. It was clear that what he was about to say was a fear that he'd harbored since he was that thirteen-year-old boy who'd sailed out into North Blue and beyond, alone and alive by sheer luck or misfortune, take your pick. It was a fear he'd buried beneath layers of callousness and apathy, smirks that didn't reach his eyes and bravado necessary of all pirates who could not confront their tragedies.

"What if the faith my crew has in me, the faith that Ikkaku and Uni died for…what if it's all built on a lie?"

Spade sat back down on the mattress and reached for him. She cradled his cheeks in both of her palms and straddled his hips so she could lean her forehead against his. Law looked at her and he was naked—not just physically, but soul bared, the most readable she'd ever found him since knowing him. Law was always introspective, but this was too much, self-examination to the point of rocking the very foundation of his entire purpose.

"That's actually the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, and you say a lot of stupid shit," she said quietly.

"This isn't—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Spade said, words coming swiftly enough that she could not dwell on whether they were wise. "I hate talking about Ace with you because he's a part of me you'll never get, but you should know that he never wanted to be Pirate King. Even when he was captain of his own ship, before he swore loyalty to Whitebeard, he just wanted to roam the seas, explore, conquer as he saw fit. But he didn't want the One Piece or the title of Pirate King, and later on, all he wanted was to put Whitebeard on that throne. Turns out that Whitebeard had raised Ace all along to inherit the throne of his father, whether Ace wanted it or not."

"I loved Ace, but even now that he's dead, he never deserved that throne," she continued. "He didn't want it. He didn't fight for it with every fiber of his being because wanting One Piece was never a choice he had. And honestly, I think I loved him for that. One Piece has never been a goal in my mind. It was why I couldn't swear fealty to Whitebeard, or Luffy, or even to you. If Marco told me now that his goal was to become the Pirate King, I'd leave. But it doesn't mean that I don't believe in the One Piece, and it doesn't mean I don't believe that someone deserves to be Pirate King. Because I do. I didn't believe that man was Ace. I believe that man is you."

Law's breath hitched. She had never voiced this affirmation aloud. She was not supposed to take sides. The race to One Piece was one she had no stakes in, for she loved multiple contenders and whatever the prize at the end of the tunnel was, she was happy for whoever seized it as long as they did not abuse it.

"You know I don't believe in Fate. Fuck all that. This is your choice, you made it, and if some oracle at the edge of Raftel tells you you're not the Pirate King, fuck them because you made it there first. You fought harder than anyone else I know for it. You've gone through some really messed up shit in your life." She leaned against him and felt his heart beat rapidly, his breath mingle with hers, and she brushed her lips against his. "You've climbed out the pits of Hell, alive and loved. Never doubt that it is good that you are loved. Whatever this journey has been for you, it's not a mistake. Whatever the ending is, your crew will never believe that their faith in you is a lie, because it is the only truth to them that matters."

Something in Law's eyes flashed. It bordered a frenzy, a fervor that almost frightened her, but she caught a clarity in his expression that smoothed back into his mask of confidence and conviction. This was the man who was going to become Pirate King, and he kissed her like their world was ending, but a new one was on the horizon, built on nothing but the solid weight of dreams.

"Have you seen the commander?"

Beret shook her head as she munched on a scone. Her crimson lipstick didn't budge. "Nah, she didn't come back last night."

"She's okay, isn't she?" said Poppy anxiously. "You don't think Trafalgar did anything to her?"

Beret smirked. "Actually, I think Trafalgar did a lot of things to her. I hope so, at least."

"I don't have time for your innuendoes right now." Poppy waved a stack of papers; her hands were shaking from lack of sleep and excess caffeine. "I need to talk to her."

"Then call her Mushi, she probably has it on her."

"Fine," said Poppy irritably. She dialed the number and waited for it to ring.

Spade picked up on the fourth ring.

"What."

The syllable came out strained, a rubber-band stretched to maximum tension that was ready to snap at any moment.

"Commander," said Poppy, concerned, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," was the response, the tone no better. "Is something wrong…shit, fuck you, Law." The words came feebly and ended more like a moan than a curse, and Poppy could hear a deeper voice chuckle darkly in the background.

The Mink understood what was happening, probably belatedly, because Beret was already laughing up a mouth full of chocolate flour.

"You know what, I'll call you back," Poppy said, flushing, "when you're…less busy…"

She hung up promptly and glared at Beret, who was now coughing because she'd inhaled flour the wrong way.

"Serves you right," sniffed Poppy.

"No, serves you right." The Vice Commander scooted the baby Mushi back to its rightful place on Poppy's desk. "C'mon, Commander hasn't had a partner since I've known her, and now she suddenly bumps into the guy she gave up Hurricane for? Give them some space to bone."

"B-b-bone, I mean, I don't want to interrupt them but this is important!" Poppy despaired. "She asked me to do some translation work and I've done what I can. There's some words I can't figure out but overall it's a big fucking deal!"

Beret shrugged, disinterested. "Big enough that you're gonna cockblock the commander?"

The door to Poppy's quarters suddenly opened, and in waltzed ex-Admiral Aokiji, who was so large he had to duck under the doorframe to enter.

"Who're you cockblocking?" he said with unfeigned interest.

"Holy fucking carrots!" Poppy threw all her papers into a decrepit corner of the room, out of sight. "Sir!"

"Please don't call me that," said Aokiji with a roll of his eyes. "The only person I wish would still call me that is Skye, but only because it'd take me back to a time where she actually respected me."

"Yeah," said Beret, unimpressed. She had finished her scone and was now starting on a bagel lathered in orange blossom cream cheese. "Hard for me to believe that she ever respected you."

Beret had never liked Aokiji for some reason that Poppy didn't understand, because she quite liked the ex-Admiral. She found him funny.

Aokiji didn't look offended. "Hello to you too, Miss Beret."

"Were you supposed to follow her here?" Beret said suspiciously.

"Of course. She travels faster than me, but considering that I made it here only a day after her, I'd say I made good time."

"Were you both in Mariejois, sir?" asked Poppy, eyes shining.

"Yes, we were. It was a terrible time. Can you believe I raised that woman? She can really say the meanest things. I got a haircut and rather liked it, and you know what she called me? An asparagus."

Poppy, who had been called much meaner things by racists who hated Minks and fishmen, decided not to comment that being called an asparagus was practically a compliment.

"You said you finished what you could of the translations?" Aokiji asked her. Poppy nodded. "Good, let me take a look at them."

Poppy glanced at Beret, who shook her head. "Nope, we didn't get any orders to give them to you. In fact, I don't even know if you're allowed to be here. Commander didn't tell us you were coming."

"I earned those translations as much as your commander did," Aokiji said pointedly.

"No proof."

"You can call her and ask."

"No," Poppy said quickly. "Don't."

Aokiji arched a bushy eyebrow. "Why? Where is she?"

"She's busy…"

"With?"

Before Poppy could respond, Nan's voice called from the deck.

"Poppers! There's a…polar bear here! Wants to speak to you!"

"A polar bear?" Aokiji repeated, confused. "What the fuck is a polar bear doing…ah. The cock-blocking. You mean to tell me she's preoccupied with the Surgeon of Death? Is this what she does, completes a mission and goes to find him for a quickie? Trafalgar Law should be more focused on his goals. God knows what happened when they got distracted with each other last time."

"She doesn't do that," snapped Beret. "This is the first time we've heard about him."

"Well, I hope this is a quick pit-stop. I'd like to move along, now that we have the final bit of the National Weapon. Miss Poppy, those translations please."

"Don't give them to him," said Beret. She was not being petty; she had her vice-commander voice on, and Poppy obeyed her.

"I'm sorry, sir. We should wait until Commander gets back to go over it."

"Poppy!" Nan called again. "The bear! What do I do with a bear! Is he an enemy? Do I skin him and cook him?"

"N-No!" said Bepo's voice meekly. "I just wanted to talk t-to Miss Poppy."

Poppy leaned over and opened her door, where Bepo was standing quietly outside. On the lower deck were two men dressed in boiler suits; one of them was the one that Beret had abducted the day before. They flashed thumbs up in Bepo's direction.

"Can I help you?" she asked. "Your captain's with our commander right now, so if you're looking for them—"

"N-No, I was looking for you!" Bepo stared at his paws. "I, um…brought you flowers."

He thrust forward a bouquet of lavender blooms interspersed with sprigs of mint. The ensemble both aesthetically and aromatically did not meld, but it was obvious Bepo had picked the bouquet himself.

Poppy's nose twitched. Surprisingly, she didn't find the smell of minty lavender offensive.

"Thanks?" She stared at the bouquet in his outstretched paw and did not move to take it from him. "What for?"

"Fiora is too heavily scented because of all the mangroves, so I thought you'd like some mint to help clear your sinuses! Plus Captain told me lavender helps you relax, so I thought you'd like that too."

"Thanks," Poppy said again. "But I mean…why?"

"Because I think you're smart and pretty," blurted out Bepo.

"Aw, he thinks you're smart and pretty, Poppy." It was hard to tell if Beret was being sarcastic or not.

"Yes, but—"

"As much as I love interspecies love," interrupted Aokiji, "I'm on a bit of a schedule. So why don't you guys take this courtship outside, and I'll let Spade know later that I picked up the translations…"

The entire room was immediately covered in a fluid, moving glacier that ushered everyone except for Kuzan out the door. Before Poppy could retaliate, the door to her quarters slammed right in her face, sealed over immediately by a thick layer of ice.

"Hey!" Poppy said indignantly. "That's my room! You can't just go snooping around in there, Commander hasn't given you permission! Sir!"

"Wait…" The other Hearts members had crept up behind them. The one with PENGUIN on his cap frowned. "Was that Aokiji?"

"Oh!" Bepo exclaimed. "Yeah, it was! I didn't even notice!"

"How did you not notice?" Penguin cuffed him over the head, which was difficult given that Bepo was over a foot taller them him. "You were staring right at his face!"

"I was too struck by Miss Poppy's beauty—"

"Holy shit, Kuzan's here!" Shachi pulled out his Den-Den Mushi. "We gotta tell Captain!"

Poppy pulled at her ears anxiously. "Wait, I wouldn't do that if I were you—"

The snail rang, and Law answered on the third ring.

"Cap—"

"If someone isn't holding a gun to your fucking head right now, I'm going to cut off your balls and feed them to you."

Shachi glanced between his crewmates, terrified.

"Nope, it's nothing, sorry, bye!"

He hung up. Poppy pulled her ears over her eyes. Bepo proferred his bouquet.

"Do you want to get dinner?"

Spade returned to the Wingwoman in the afternoon, after a brief meeting with the Fioran royal ambassador to schedule an appointment with the queen. She'd had a late start to the day, thanks to Law, and had a host of missed messages from her crewmates that she listened to on her way back. Aokiji had followed her to Fiora, intent on getting his fair share of the rewards from Mariejois. She had been careful to ditch Aokiji as best as she could and was peeved to hear that he could track her so closely. Part of her wondered if Aokiji had made a Vivre card of her without her knowledge; he'd been getting much faster at following her movements.

When she arrived in her own quarters, Aokiji was sitting at her desk, grim and serious. Poppy and Beret followed behind her, nervous that they'd allowed Aokiji onboard without much of a fight, but Spade couldn't blame them. No one on her crew could beat Aokiji even if he were blind and deaf. It would've been a waste of effort.

Aokiji threw the clipped papers at her. She caught them and rifled through them, glancing over Poppy's careful handwriting in the margins, her eyes attracted to the words she'd expected to find. Ope-Ope no Mi. Perennial Youth Operation. Master of Devil's Fruits. They settled in her bones, a truth she'd always known but could only now confirm.

Spade set the stack of papers down. Aokiji was silently seething, his eyes flashing in uncharacteristic fury, and she knew she should be scared. Aokiji was rarely angry, but when he was, you never knew what to expect.

"Beret, take everyone off the ship and go have fun in Sinomet," Spade said calmly. "Tell Nan and Dan I established contact with a royal guard last night, and to go to the palace for an appointment with the queen. Be on the lookout for Marines. The Heart Pirates have been here too long for Headquarters not to be close by."

"Aye," said the Vice Commander.

"Commander, should I stay?" Poppy said anxiously.

"No." Spade sat down on her bed, across from Aokiji. "I'll debrief you later."

Her crewmates left and closed the door behind them. Spade waited several minutes, ensuring that the ship had been vacated, before speaking.

"You're angry."

"You knew about this," Aokiji said, no trace of typical jokester in his face. "I don't know how, but you knew that the final piece to operating the weapon was Trafalgar Law."

Spade nodded. "I had a hunch."

"You just wasted months of precious time for information you could have told me all along. I don't know what you and Law are planning but—"

"Law doesn't know about this," Spade said sharply, "and I have no intention of telling him."

"How could he not know? Isn't he your source?"

"No." Spade folded a corner of the front page. "My source was Doflamingo."

Aokiji was stricken. "How the hell—"

"Doflamingo mentioned it when he held me captive. He talked a lot about Law, why he chose Law and raised him, and why he couldn't let Law go…a whole bunch of nonsense." She continued folding the paper down, finding the repetition soothing. The mere thought of Doflamingo stressed her to her limits. She did not talk about him with anyone other than Law. She took a deep breath. "He told me that his power among the World Nobles didn't stem from him being a Tenryuubito, but instead from his knowledge about the National Weapon. A fruit that confers all Devil's Fruit abilities to the user. But obviously, people can't ingest more than one Fruit without dying, so it was a moot point. Except for the beneficiary of the Ope-Ope no Mi's Perennial Youth Operation."

"What is that?"

"It's a one-time operation. The recipient gains eternal youthful immortality at the price of the Ope-Ope no Mi user's life. So obviously, if you're immortal and ingest the National Weapon…"

"You're invincible," Aokiji said, understanding.

"Right. Law knows about that operation. He said Doflamingo intended for his brother to ingest the Ope-Ope no Mi and grant him eternal life."

"So Law does know about this."

"Not exactly. He was my confirmation. Back in Dressrosa, when Doflamingo was about to kill Law, Doflamingo told him about the National Weapon as well—that's why I was sure it existed. Law's probably guessed that he has something to do with it, but he doesn't know what the Weapon is, or what exactly his role to operating it is."

Aokiji nodded. "He doesn't know he has to die in order for someone else to wield it."

"Yeah," exhaled Spade.

Aokiji looked slightly less furious as he digested this information. Instead, he peered at her thoughtfully, if not slightly sympathetically.

"So if you knew this, then why pursue it? You've wasted your time finding a weapon you refuse to use."

"I'm not refusing to use it," she responded. "I'm merely rejecting this method of attaining it. There must be other ways to use the Weapon. We just have to figure out how."

"These scrolls are older than the World Government itself, Skye. If it says that this is how the Weapon is obtained, then I don't see what other alternative we have.

"Blackbeard was able to eat two Devil's Fruits and survive," Spade retorted. "So were his crewmates. There's a way. There must be a way."

"Careful," murmured Aokiji. "You're losing sight of your purpose again."

"I am not—do not gaslight me," she said angrily. "I have been careful and attentive to this goal for the last two years, Aokiji. Do not suggest that somehow my feelings for Law are clouding my judgment. I have been pursuing this Weapon since I left Wano and I intend with every remaining breath to make sure Marco the Phoenix has it in his arsenal. That goal is not mutually exclusive from my rejection that somehow all of Law's shitty life has culminated into him being a sacrificial lamb for someone else. He deserves so much more than that."

Aokiji just looked at her pensively, and she knew he was not convinced. Her mentor was not a cold, callous person, but he was objective—much more objective than she. He fought for his own brand of justice and could be a good Samaritan when he felt like it, but what Spade tended to forget about Aokiji was his calculative side. Sacrifices to eliminate bigger threats were not out of the question for him. The execution of Portgas D. Ace, for example, was something Aokiji had never expressed remorse for.

She knew what he was thinking. When it came to overthrowing the World Government, ripping out an eight-hundred year-old institution from its roots and establishing a new world order, who was Trafalgar Law in the grand scheme of things? Who were any of them?

"You only helped with my mission so you could run away with the scroll, hoping I'd never find out the truth," Aokiji said finally.

"I wasn't that naïve to think it'd work," Spade said, "but I tried."

"Skye," he sighed, "you need to tell Law."

"No."

"This is his choice. No one is making him perform the operation, but you do understand that he has the power to choose who can wield this weapon? He can choose who will be the strongest person in the world, the ruler of the universe, the—"

"The King?" said Spade icily. "Right, he can choose everyone except for himself. So what, Law just forgoes his dream of being the Pirate King?"

"This isn't just the mater of being some silly Pirate King—this is the ruler of the entire world!"

"And it won't be him! It can't be him if we do it this way! And look, if there's going to be a ruler of the entire fucking world, I don't even think it should be Law! I don't even think he wants it. But the moment he hears about this—"

Spade's sentence ground to a halt. No, this was not her information to give. Law already had doubts about his right to being Pirate King; he did not need to know that some eight-hundred year-old scroll said that his purpose in life was to be a scapegoat.

"Just please don't tell him," she whispered.

Aokiji looked at her levelly. "You are making the same mistake you made two years ago, when you gave up Hurricane for a man you prioritized over your purpose."

"It wasn't a mistake."

Aokiji stood up, his head bumping into the ceiling as he did. "I made a copy of the translations. I'm giving them to Dragon. I can't promise that the Revolutionaries won't come after Law and tell him."

"He'll be on his way to Raftel by then."

"This is Law's decision to make, Skye. Not yours."

"It is mine. This is the information I found, and my team that's translated it. I don't owe it to him."

Aokiji shook his head, disapproving, and pushed the the door open. He straightened up once he was outside and looked out into the horizon, thinking. Spade felt like a petulant child, asking an adult for something she knew was wrong.

"Please don't tell him, Aokiji."

He sighed. "He won't hear it from me. But destiny always has the uncanny way of coming true, and when Law discovers this was his Fate all along…you will regret keeping this from him. He can't make a true decision without knowing all of his choices."

"When he's Pirate King, he can blame me all he wants."

Aokiji looked at her, appraising. "You know…"

She frowned. "What?"

"At another time, or in another life, you two would've been cute. He's a dick, but I would've approved. But now…" Aokiji shook his head again. "It's a dangerous thing to be in love when you're trying to upend the world, Skye. You're making the wrong choice. I only hope the consequences don't kill the both of you."

He leapt from the upper deck, agile as an antelope, straight into the sea that froze over the moment his feet touched the surface. Spade walked out onto the deck to say goodbye.

"Send Marco my regards," Aokiji said.

"He won't want them."

"Send them anyway. Our next steps may take diverging paths, but I'll be in touch, Skye." He waved. "In the meantime, be safe."

She waved and watched as Aokiji's profile grew smaller in the distance. The sun shone brightly and a weak zephyr blew, doing little to alleviate the heat or the sinking feeling in her stomach, a stone dropped into a bottomless pool, waiting for an end but granted no relief.

Spade came by the Polar Tang later in the evening while Law was in the middle of teaching Ovid basic swordsmanship. The teenager was so startled by Spade's sudden appearance that he'd flat-out dropped his katana in the middle of a parry, and it was only because they were fighting in Law's Room that Ovid survived the decapitation.

"Focus," snapped Law when he reattached Ovid's head. "You can't just shit your pants every time something unexpected happens—I literally cut off your head in that split second."

"I'm sorry, Captain!" Ovid stammered, bowing slightly. "I will never lose focus again!"

"That seems like an unachievable commitment," said Spade, green eyes alight in amusement.

Ovid flushed in embarrassment. "I m-meant I-I w-won't lose f-focus next time!"

"I know, I was just kidding," Spade said, somewhat taken aback by the degree to which Ovid was stammering. "It's okay, you're still learning."

"Y-yes ma'am!"

Spade stared at him. "Please don't ever call me that again."

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry!"

"Breathe, Ovid," sighed Law. "There's nothing be scared of. This is Skye Spade, Second Division Commander of the Phoenix Pirates."

"Yes!" Ovid straightened up in a salute. "Hello, m-my name is Ovid!"

"Hi." Spade extended a hand, evidently trying not to laugh. "Nice to meet you."

Ovid shook it without making eye contact. "T-the h-honor is mine."

"Do a hundred reps of over-the-head swings," Law ordered, gesturing to the opposite side of the deck. Ovid scuttled away eagerly, leaving the two of them alone. "You came at a bad time. The others just went out to get dinner."

"I ran into them earlier. Did you tell Bepo to court Poppy?"

"What?" said Law, bewildered.

"He showed up and gave her this bouquet," grinned Spade, "and asked her to dinner. Poppy said no, but it was still really cute."

Law frowned. "Why did she say no? You can't do better than Bepo."

Spade shrugged. "She likes pandas, said something about Polar Minks being too fishy. She doesn't like fish."

"That seems low-key discriminatory."

"I respect my navigator's right to choose, all right? Though I do find Bepo wonderful and if something works out between them, I won't complain."

Law nodded. "Shachi told me Aokiji was aboard your ship."

The amusement disappeared from her expression. "He left."

"Why was he here?"

"We…" Spade hesitated. "We were working on something together. He needed the results. Don't worry about it."

Spade was being withholding, which made Law worry about it. He did not press her for more, however, and instead Roomed them both to his quarters.

"God, warn me when you're about to transport me," said Spade irritably, balancing herself against his desk.

"Figured you'd want to be out of sight."

"Yeah." She looked around the room, body relaxing as she sat down on the desk. "Not much has changed around here."

"I'm not one to decorate."

"I know. I brought you something though." She reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew a stack of papers. "Here."

Law sat down in his desk chair and rifled through the papers. "This is…the Oharan Poneglyph."

"Yeah. Translated by Robin, actually, so you know it's accurate."

Law looked at her sharply. "You work with the Strawhats a lot?"

"It was a trade," she answered. "We all realized belatedly that we were missing a Poneglyph from Ohara. Robin said if I found it, she'd translate it for me and also give us all their existing translations. It was a great deal, so I took it."

"You found Ohara?" Law said, amazed. "You went all the way back out to West Blue?"

"As you can tell, I'm not with my crew a whole lot," said Spade wryly. "I did about a half-year stretch of solo flying and sailing all around the Four Blues."

"What in the world for?"

Spade let out a breath and swung around so that her legs hung off the desk in front of Law. She took the stack of papers away from him and set it next to her.

"After I went to Ohara," she said carefully, "I had this theory that there was a link between the islands that the World Government had committed mass genocides of. The Oharan scholars were studying the Void Century, there was another island of researchers around seventy years ago in North Blue that specialized in biochemical engineering that got wiped out for making chemical weapons, stuff like that. It seemed too intentional to me, so I thought I'd visit them to see if I could find a connection. It didn't pan out, obviously. The islands were too spread apart for me to feasibly reach their general location, and tons of them were Logless so I was flying blind most of the time. Marco told me to give up at the half-year mark."

Spade looked so uncomfortable that Law knew intrinsically where the conversation was headed before she spoke it aloud.

"When I was in North Blue, I went to Flevance."

She halted right after the name of the island, a visible effort to discontinue. Her anxiety was palpable, but Law wasn't sure why. Did she expect him to be angry? He was, but the cognitive side of him couldn't explain why.

It's your home. That was your family. She didn't need to snoop around when she didn't understand anything about Flevance.

"And?" said Law tonelessly.

Spade reached into her pocket and wordlessly handed over a weathered photograph. Law glanced at it and recognized it instantly. It was a family portrait, the one they'd had framed over their fireplace. In it, Law was eight and Lamie was six. She was smiling extra hard, as if trying to compensate for Law's surliness. His mother, tall and willowy with soft features, rested a hand on both of her children's shoulders, while Law's father, slightly shorter with a receding hairline but a magnificent beard, beamed at the camera.

"How…" He cleared his throat. "How did you find this?"

"No one's been there since the massacre," said Spade softly. "North Blue has been getting colder each year, and the weather has preserved the island miraculously well. There were bodies—never mind. It wasn't hard to find your house. Most of it had been burned, but I found this in the rubble. I thought…you'd want it."

Law's hands were shaking, but he could not tear his eyes away from the photograph. Out of his family, he was the only survivor. Out of the entire fucking island, he was the only one who'd lived. And he was about to become the Pirate King.

Was the life of the entire island worth his achieving his destiny?

If Amber Lead hadn't killed them all, Law would have never left Flevance. He'd have lived happily with his parents, studied medicine, become a genius doctor known throughout North Blue. He'd have settled down with someone, maybe his elementary school sweetheart or some mysterious stranger passing through, and they'd start a family. Lamie would grow up to be the vivacious heartthrob of the island, a literature professor or some salacious novelist. His parents would've grown old, retired, lived out the rest of their lives in the bliss of their children's success. He would have never joined the Donquixote crew. He would have never met Corazon, and Corazon wouldn't have died for him, and Dressrosa wouldn't have fallen into Doflamingo's hands. Law would have never met Bepo, Shachi, Penguin. He would have never started his own crew, sailed the four seas, found a new family—because why would he? Who dreamed of a new family when the one he'd had was so good, so loving, so safe?

"It was awful," Spade whispered. Her hand found his and grasped him tightly. "What they did. It was…I'm so sorry."

He held her back and placed the photograph on top of the Oharan Poneglyph translations. Spade's eyes were wet.

"Don't be stupid," he muttered. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Thanks for giving it to me."

Law stood up and kissed her. She returned it carefully, but when Law moved to unwrap her cloak and unbutton her pants, she stopped him.

"We shouldn't," she murmured against his lips.

"Too sore from this morning?" he guessed. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

"You dick," she hissed, but looked relieved that he was in the mood to joke. "Is this how you deflect from everything emotional?"

"You are no better, I promise you."

"True," she conceded. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and met his gaze levelly. "I should've told you about going to Flevance sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't know how you'd react."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said again, this time thinly. "What's past is past."

"Law—"

"We don't have to rehash my tragic history," he snapped. "I've had almost twenty years to do that on my own. What do you want me to do, cry?"

Spade's eyes flashed, and she pursed her lips like she wanted to say something cruel and knew better than to voice it aloud.

"Fine. We don't have to talk about it."

Law uttered a curse and leaned his forehead against hers.

"What do you want me to say?" he said, all of a sudden world-weary. "I'm sad my entire family died?"

"Sure," she said offhandedly. "If that's how you feel."

"It's not." Law swallowed down the acidity slowly ascending his esophagus. "That's the worst part. Sure, I'm sad, and I will never forgive the World Government for what they did. But I've had twenty years to ask why it happened and I will never get an answer better than what I already know. My life…as shitty as it is, it's mine. I have fought hard for my crew and my family. I've been places and seen things that kids in Flevance couldn't have even dreamed of. I wouldn't give that up for anything. I don't regret my life. Even though it came at the expense of my entire island."

"It wasn't an expense," said Spade. "They did not pay for you to be where you are today."

"Feels otherwise. Especially when I snuck out of Flevance under their carcasses."

"You got out of Flevance in a way that no one else would've had the grit to do," she said firmly. "You said it—it's your life. You earned it. You paid the price to become Pirate King, no one else."

Spade spoke with the same determination she'd had the night before, and her eyes glinted with a steely resolve that Law recognized in his crewmates.

"You made the right choice back then," he said quietly, "not to join my crew."

Spade smiled cryptically, and he knew she felt the same way.

"Commander!" Beret's voice rang over the Wingwoman like the crack of a whip. Something was wrong.

Spade looked up from her work. In exchange for the Oharan Poneglyph, Law had given Spade a translated version of the Fioran Poneglyph that she and Poppy were currently reading through and comparing to the transcription that Nan and Dan had copied from their appointment with the queen. Dan adjusted his reading glasses—Law had also gifted them a year's worth of issues of Naval Medicine—and peered concernedly at Beret as she leapt down from the crow's nest and ran toward them.

"Marines sighted at four o'clock," she announced.

"How many ships?" Spade asked, resuming her reading.

"About fifty."

She jerked her head up. "Fifty?! That's a Supreme Admiral's fleet!"

"Last time I checked, no Supreme Admirals were supposed to be stationed this far out," Poppy said thoughtfully. "Maybe he came because of Aokiji?"

"No, Aokiji just got here. It's Law," Spade groaned. "He's been idle for so long, an fifty-ship fleet had time to arrive…"

"What should we do?" asked Beret.

"The queen's going to be upset," murmured Dan. "She said increased Marine scrutiny is going to make them suspicious of the Poneglyph they're hiding."

"Not our problem," said Spade coolly. "We got our translations. Has our Log Pose set?'

"Yeah, just did."

"Fine. Dan, call the twins and tell them to get back to the ship with as many supplies as possible. Poppy, map out the fastest route back to the Moby Dick. The moment the twins are back, we're out of here."

"Aye-aye." Poppy promptly dashed away, and Dan followed suit. Beret remained behind, a strange expression on her face.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah. Just sorry you only had a night with him."

Spade didn't know how to respond to that. She hadn't thought about it that way. Neither Law nor she had expected to extend their stay in Sinomet just because they wanted to. She'd given Law the Oharan Poneglyph with the expectation that Law would set sail soon; Underworld reports put the Strawhats en route to Sinomet currently. Law needed as much of the head-start as he could get.

"It's nothing," Spade said briskly. "We didn't expect anything else."

"Aye." Beret knew when to drop the conversation. "I'll relay a message to Captain Marco, let 'im know we're coming home."

Spade smiled. "Yeah, it'll be good to be home."

Beret set off to prepare their departure, leaving Spade alone on the Wingwoman's deck. She pulled out her personal Den-Den Mushi and dialed Law's number.

"You're not calling on a Burner," he said the moment he picked up.

"No, you have my number now. You can call it if you need to."

"Need or want?"

"Need, unless you have a Blocker. Beret sighted Marines. We're setting out as soon as the twins return. You guys should too."

"They really have impeccable timing. We just all boarded."

"Good." Spade's throat suddenly felt dry. "I suppose I'll see you around then."

Law didn't answer immediately. A blue dome captured the entire Wingwoman and all the ships a kilometer on either side of it, and Law abruptly appeared right next to her.

"That's it?" He hung up his Mushi. "See you around?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I'm sad you're leaving," he said mockingly, echoing their short-lived therapy session earlier. "I'm sad I'm not coming with you. I'm sad we didn't get in one final fuck before Marines showed up and cockblocked us as they always do—"

"How many times have you been cockblocked by Marines?" she said sourly.

Law chuckled. "More times than necessary."

He reached for her hands and their fingers interlocked. Law's eyes, cold, brilliant steel, softened as they met hers. Her mouth was dry again. Maybe she actually was sad.

"The first thing I'll do after I find the One Piece and become King is find you," he said, "and I swear that I will help you and Marco overthrow the Marines and World Government."

Her heart stuttered out of time. Did Law know what that would entail? That he was meant to conduct a life-threatening procedure to bestow unconditional power unto someone else? No, there was no way. Spade held her tongue. She did not believe in Fate.

She tightened her grip in his. "I won't need your help."

Law smirked, all confidence and ego restored. Before he could reply, a speaker blasted through the air.

"Trafalgar Law! This is Supreme Admiral Fujitora speaking. We have you surrounded. By the power bestowed by the Marine Institution, I hereby arrest you on counts of piracy, treason, plundering, et cetera. Surrender peacefully and no blood will be shed!"

"They're here quickly," Law murmured.

"We need to get out," said Spade sharply. The twins had just run aboard the Wingwoman, and Nan was dragging up the gangplank. "Set sail!"

"Who is that with you?" Fujitora's enhanced voice boomed across the port. "Well, I'll be darned. Is that Skye Spade? What are you two doing together? Is this a repeat of Punk Hazard? Is the Fioran monarchy involved in this scheme?"

"Fuck, you should go," said Spade, irritated that she'd been sighted so easily.

Law mused aloud. "The queen has been hospitable to us. I wouldn't want the Marines to seize the palace and discover the Poneglyph."

"That's none of our business, we need to go. We'll just let them think that we were here because of the Poneglyph, and—"

Law tilted her chin up and kissed her deeply. It was the kind of kiss that sent a jolt of pleasure straight down her spine, settling like a heat in her lower stomach, the kind that made Spade forget that they were in public, promptly being lambasted by a Marine Admiral. It was a kiss that made her miss him before he'd even left.

Spade held her wits about her and broke it off as soon as she remembered to.

"What are you doing?!"

Law shrugged and looked out in the direction of the Marines. "There. Now they'll think we just met here for a rendezvous."

"Law, did you not hear a single thing I said last night—we cannot be each other's public weaknesses!"

"You are not my weakness," said Law sharply, "and I am not yours. Let everyone know about us. I couldn't care less. No one accomplishes anything when they're in love—except for me. I'm going to prove to the entire fucking world that the prospect of you and me wasn't an obstacle I had to overcome to achieve my goal."

Law's eyes gleamed and his lips curled into a feral smile. He looked nearly manic.

"The next time I see you, I'll be your King."

He disappeared in a flash of blue. Spade did not have time to dwell on how cool Law's exit had been, or how fast her heart was pounding, or how badly she wished the Marines hadn't just arrived even an hour later so she and Law could get a final round in. She did not dwell on the what ifs, the when, the next times that would never come and the throne that would not be seized.

She was the Second Division Commander of the Phoenix Pirates, and she acted like it.

A howling gale tore through port and a wall of water rose from the oceans to the sky, separating them from the Marines. The Wingwoman zipped easily across the sea, escorted in the eye of a moving hurricane as it repelled canons, bullets, even entire meteors. By the time the storm cleared, the Wingwoman was nowhere in sight, and the Polar Tang had long sunk into the depths of the ocean, leaving no trace of them behind.

Buoyed by anticipation and dreams, they sailed diverging paths, which by Fate's design would never converge again. Yet, designs were neat and real circumstances messy, with blurred intentions and beliefs, broken bodies and pieces scattered on the roadsides in chaos through which thorny paths could be forged by the determined, and Fate by the nonbelievers could be forsaken.

But that's a story for another time.

Here, at this moment, in the shambles of a world on the cusp of rebirth, a future King and a past Queen existed and loved and hoped, and sometimes, that is enough for now.

Fin.

free talk: thank you for reading shambles. it's been a fun ride. thank you for your support and messages. you make writing worth it. til next time.

xoxo,
m.n