'Choice' - second One Piece fanfiction, second chapter, beta searching
So here you go, second chapter of 'Choice'. There will be one more chapter posted next weekend. And, yeah, I have forgotten to warn you, I made up some names. And I think they fit very well ^^. As always, searching for beta.
Choice, chapter 2
Sengoku has managed to read whole fourteen pages during the last three hours of sitting by the windowsill in his apartment. It was still more than the part he had read during the last month. But that time he was burdened with complete lack of time and the annoying feeling that the world is nothing but a little glass globe he has to juggle with while standing on the slippery floor. Now both of those problems were gone (well, the world was still there, alive and very fiercely kicking, but not in his hands anymore), so he should use his precious time to finally enjoy some reading (reports did not deserve that noble name). After all he should cherish those pleasures that haven't fled from him yet. No more punching in the face and drinking green tea with Garp, no more sex and
skillful massages with Ryu and his eyes ached more and more often, so he really should read while he still could. Of course, there still were long walks with Orpheus, delectable dinners with Tsuru, drinking umeshu with Borsalino... and he could even take a trip to
one of those far away islands he hadn't been to for many years. Or simply go back to fighting pirates, this time, once again, psychically. It was a retirement. THE retirement. Plenty of possibilities. '...that decision must have touched him on much too many levels. No one should really blame him.' - it wasn't that Sengoku was thinking constantly of Sakazuki that afternoon. He really did his best to not make an internal tragedy of the fact that another one of the very few important to him persons has left him in a bitter
atmosphere. He was old and lived through enough not to fall into despair. But still, the depressing thoughts were resurfacing every now and then. 'He had always worked himself into a lather. Never cutting himself any slack. Training when others were
sleeping. Honing his willpower when others were drinking. Taking missions after missions when others thought about their lovers. Obeying orders when others (at least the skillful ones) were finding a way to get around. He wanted to be perfect and pursued it with all he had. There really wasn't a better soldier than him. No wonder he felt he truly deserved that promotion... And I'm sure he believed he would make a difference being Fleet Admiral. Everyone does... Create a perfect army... I'm sure he can't stand the
prospect of spending next years seeing it under command of someone whose methods he does not approve of. Yeah... And chosing Kuzan. Much younger, with such a completely different view and way of doing things, whose animosity towards Sakazuki could be beaten only by that of Garp's (though Kuzan at least tended not to show it too loudly). Without doubt he had to take it as some kind of a betrayal, especially considering how often I had praised him privately and in front of others as my best soldier...'
He sighed. 'Always think a lot before making difficult decision, never after. Really should apply it to my private life. At least it was hopefully the last there-is-no-goodsolution decision I had to make.' He put the book aside and looked absent-mindedly out of the window. The clouds were slowly turning reddish gold. He could see the guards on the streets looking impatiently at the clock on the tower. Soon the night shift would change them. They still didn't know anything about the shift at the top, but very soon they would...
He could call Borsalino and go to a tavern. It was a very good thing, this Pika Pika Fruit. You just call your friend and he is here in a split of second (if not entertaining any ladies at the moment that is). Then again, Borsalino would without doubt want to know
everything about today's meeting with Kong and would wonder why Sengoku doesn't spend his free evening with Sakazuki while the latter is not on the mission... Since they were really close friends he would probably end up telling him everything (he would have
found out they were no longer together either way) and he knew the next thing would be a genuinely sorrowful face of Borsalino and a consoling voice 'You don't think he was with you only for that promotion, do you? You can't think that way, even him, no, especially him, would not have done such a thing'. And it would be so obvious he thinks otherwise. Everyone will. Except maybe Tsuru. But...
Knocking at the door has jerked him out of this not exactly leading anywhere depressing stream of thoughts.
- Who's that?
- Me.
Sengoku was staring for a moment at the door. It would be so fairylike, if Ryu came to tell him that he has rethought things and changed his mind, instead of only taking the unfinished report he had left here today morning. And Blackbeard would commit suicide, the prisoners from Impel Down would hand themselves down and Mugiwara would decide to become obediently cooperating Shichibukai. And everyone would live happily ever after. Sengoku stepped over Orpheus, opened the door and looked up into indignation barely visible from beneath the mask of indifference. He really did not know which words were appropriate now and whether there were any. In any case, making Sakazuki stand here whole eternity, into which the mere couple of seconds seemed to have extended, would definitely not be appropriate.
- Er, your report...? - he asked while moving back into his apartment.
- Yes. I'd like to finish it before the new mission starts.
- Of course - Sengoku answered with a voice more tired than he wanted it to be. He moved to his desk and rummaged through a small pile of papers. There was a sound of door being shut behind him and a couple of seconds later a tatooed hand has reached for the small shelf over the desk finding the report with a precision of someone who always leaves things in one and the same place.
- If you don't mind I will get to work.
- Of course - said Sengoku with resignation. So this would be it. After all everything comes to an-
Akainu sat down beside the desk and reached for a pen. Sengoku stared. This was not exactly what he has expected when hearing 'I will get to work'. There wasn't any quick silent steps, no shutting of the door (with maybe a cold salute) and possibly never
speaking to him again. Instead there was a man - who, since had got deeply let down by his longtime lover and even more longtime superior, supposedly were to leave Sengoku once and for all - sitting by Sengoku's desk and writing perfectly calligraphed black
letters with Sengoku's pen. He's been looking for a long moment at Ryu's cold motionless features, searching for an answer to questions, doubts and hope that had risen within him. But the only result was Sakazuki's questioning look.
- Do you want to use this desk? - he asked indiffirently.
- Ah... no, sorry.
Sakazuki immediately got back to his writing, while Sengoku sat down on bed, reached for his book and start to view the letters inside. They were small, tidy, with no unnecessary ornaments and they seemed to constitute completely random groups conveying no intelligible for Sengoku meaning.
He sometimes envied some of his friends their characters. Garp, Kuzan, they would have simply accepted the situation they had found themselves in. And the situation was that his lover was still here, in his room, at least physically by his side, and he wouldn't be, if he didn't mean being with him on the other levels too, right? So what's the point in bothering yourself with unnecessary questions and doubts? If the guy had decided to come back after all, saying not a one word of reproach or anger and behaving
as though nothing has happened, you should just trust in the decision that grown-up man has made and simply behave the same way. If he had wanted a discussion, he would have started it. If he wanted you to beg for forgiveness, he wouldn't have come back. Just be grateful for the happy end, then. Yes, that is exactly how they would have reacted. Lucky bastards. Unfortunately Sengoku would not have become the Fleet Admiral, if he hadn't had the tendency to overthink things. The tendency which was very useful most of the time and did a lot of good for the army, but unfortunately at the same time has been killing his mental and physical health. The tendency that has filled his head with much too many thoughts now. Maybe that's why, while in political discussions
and negotiations he strived to read between the lines and acquire necessary information and actions with indirect questions and suggestions, in his private life he more and more often wanted the things to be direct and clear. He wanted to dispel his doubts by a
simple straightforward questions and get frank answers. He wanted to hear from him what he really does feel under this cold cloak of indifference lined with barely visible anger. He wanted to know why he had decided to come back to him and whether he had come back willingly or just forced by one of many carved in him principles he had never failed to follow. He wanted to talk about everything here and now, so that the weed of bitterness and resentment would not grow up into something big that would overshadow their future relationship.
He put the book away, stood up with determination in his features and gave a decided look at Ryu who was ignoring him, completely absorbed in his report.
...and he went to kitchen to make himself a tea.
'Am I being a loser or is it just that I know him too well?' Ryu was the last person who was willing to forthrightly discuss his feelings. Sengoku spent many years being his superior and a couple of years being his lover and got used to it. What's more, he prided himself that he had learned which minute signals conveyed which feeling and meaning. But sometimes he felt this confidence was cracking. There were moments when he wasn't sure what really was happening beneath this always coldly annoyed expression. And he wanted to know. He wanted to have a clear view on everything to make proper judgement and decisions. He wanted to root out the anxiety which was dwelling deep down and from time to time bothering him, sometimes slightly, sometimes very unnervingly. Especially now, when other problems were no longer pressing him so badly and he finally would have some more time to think about the two of them.
Sengoku sighed and looked once again through the window. The clouds were turning dark purple and there was a single star overlooking the end of another busy day in Marie Jois. Marines in plain clothes and merchants were rushing, some to their families at home, some to the small but jolly entertainment district. Sengoku wondered briefly how many of them ever felt not right - instead of being simply happy - when their important persons got back to them as though nothing had happened at all. Funny thing, human beings and their complicated ways of dealing with each other.
He reached for the little box with his darjeeling tea and suddenly hesitated. A tiny, very stupid and most probably naive thought has come to his mind. But he did not have any better ideas, did he? The hand moved away from the tea and took out the coffee
instead. It really did not have to mean much... but still... wouldn't it be one of those minute signals? Or is he slowly losing his sanity to base his judgement on such tiny things? But sometimes tiny things meant a lot... Boiled water filled the cup and the very
strong, rich aroma of his favourite coffee filled the apartment. He couldn't help but enjoy it for a moment. It was with him through so many bad days and nights, helping him through hundreds of reports and thousands of tired thoughts but instead of getting to
hate it he felt grateful and...
A very clearly audible, annoyed sigh has reached his ears and Sengoku tensed, waiting. One, two, three, four... A crack of the chair and cold words have followed.
- It won't help your insomnia to drink coffee at that hour. I expected I wouldn't have to repeat this phrase on your retirement, by the way.
Sengoku couldn't help a little tired smile and a little tired sense of relief. Of course, it didn't have to mean much. Stupid, little thing, it didn't have to mean much, but... you don't bother about insomnia of a guy, who just let you down in something that much important to you, if you don't really care about him, right?
Of course, it doesn't mean everything is alright now, but at least one thing perhaps is... hopefully...
Ryu watched his weary smile with annoyed face, standing between the study and the kitchen and after a very short moment came to his side. He reached for the two new cups, poured the water inside and started to boil it in his typical, practical way, by keeping them in his palms. Soon there was black tea in the one and melisa in the second.
- Erm. Thank you for your, er, thougthfulness - Sengoku could never stop himself from feeling a little awkward when being treated with melisa. Of course, it was just a sign of true caring for his well-being which caring meant for him a lot... but still his masculine pride suffered a little bit somewhere deep. Drinking melisa. *
- You're welcome - answered Ryu flatly, taking his tea into the study.
Sengoku was looking at him for a moment and made a decision.
- Thank you.
- Yes, I have heard you.
- ...for coming back. - There.
Ryu stiffened for a second, with one hand right above the desk, holding steaming cup. Then he gently put it down.
- Coming back from where? - he asked sharply, giving him a dissuasive look.
- ...from the walk. - answered Sengoku meekly.
Ryu sat down beside the desk.
- That was only an ordinary walk. Only loosers don't come back from something as simple as a walk - he said pointedly and with a clear warning in his voice.
- ...okay, then. I'm just glad... that's all - Sengoku entered the room and sat on the bed, putting his cup on the windowsill. And he didn't lie here. He was very, extremely glad. The worry and questions were still lurking in his mind, but Ryu's reaction somehow make him feel significantly better. It's little things that matter, right?
Melisa was steaming slightly into the darkening sky. The first bats have left their dark shelters and were flying briskly in wide cirles over the streets. Some of them were courageous enough to get near to the lamps, were they could make a feast out of naive
insects. He have heard once that moths think that lamp's light is a moonlight. Sengoku never had much time to wonder about such trifle things, but now, come to think about it, it seemed to him very doubtful. Animals weren't as stupid as people wanted them to
be. But why do they fly like that was a mystery. And no wonder. It's hard enough to understand what's happening in minds of representants of your own species, not mentioning other ones.
- Shouldn't you have some sex tonight? - came Ryu's flat voice. - I can see you're in need to clear your mind. One very great need.
Sengoku looked back at Ryu. The previous annoyance visible in tall man's features seemed to have softened a tiny bit. The ex fleet admiral couldn't help but smile gently, even though he knew very well gentle smiles was not something a Manly Man should
allow himself to do, at least according to Ryu.
- Yes, maybe I should. - he answered quietly, feeling as the anxiety and doubts get away from the small warm feeling a Manly Man should probably be ashamed of. - I don't intend to argue with you here, Ryu.
- Good - answered his lover, his eyes on the report.
Another night was embracing Marie Jois, the Holy Land of rulers to half of the world.
** Thx goes to Tenka for the idea to treat Sengoku with melisa <3
Choice, chapter 2
Sengoku has managed to read whole fourteen pages during the last three hours of sitting by the windowsill in his apartment. It was still more than the part he had read during the last month. But that time he was burdened with complete lack of time and the annoying feeling that the world is nothing but a little glass globe he has to juggle with while standing on the slippery floor. Now both of those problems were gone (well, the world was still there, alive and very fiercely kicking, but not in his hands anymore), so he should use his precious time to finally enjoy some reading (reports did not deserve that noble name). After all he should cherish those pleasures that haven't fled from him yet. No more punching in the face and drinking green tea with Garp, no more sex and
skillful massages with Ryu and his eyes ached more and more often, so he really should read while he still could. Of course, there still were long walks with Orpheus, delectable dinners with Tsuru, drinking umeshu with Borsalino... and he could even take a trip to
one of those far away islands he hadn't been to for many years. Or simply go back to fighting pirates, this time, once again, psychically. It was a retirement. THE retirement. Plenty of possibilities. '...that decision must have touched him on much too many levels. No one should really blame him.' - it wasn't that Sengoku was thinking constantly of Sakazuki that afternoon. He really did his best to not make an internal tragedy of the fact that another one of the very few important to him persons has left him in a bitter
atmosphere. He was old and lived through enough not to fall into despair. But still, the depressing thoughts were resurfacing every now and then. 'He had always worked himself into a lather. Never cutting himself any slack. Training when others were
sleeping. Honing his willpower when others were drinking. Taking missions after missions when others thought about their lovers. Obeying orders when others (at least the skillful ones) were finding a way to get around. He wanted to be perfect and pursued it with all he had. There really wasn't a better soldier than him. No wonder he felt he truly deserved that promotion... And I'm sure he believed he would make a difference being Fleet Admiral. Everyone does... Create a perfect army... I'm sure he can't stand the
prospect of spending next years seeing it under command of someone whose methods he does not approve of. Yeah... And chosing Kuzan. Much younger, with such a completely different view and way of doing things, whose animosity towards Sakazuki could be beaten only by that of Garp's (though Kuzan at least tended not to show it too loudly). Without doubt he had to take it as some kind of a betrayal, especially considering how often I had praised him privately and in front of others as my best soldier...'
He sighed. 'Always think a lot before making difficult decision, never after. Really should apply it to my private life. At least it was hopefully the last there-is-no-goodsolution decision I had to make.' He put the book aside and looked absent-mindedly out of the window. The clouds were slowly turning reddish gold. He could see the guards on the streets looking impatiently at the clock on the tower. Soon the night shift would change them. They still didn't know anything about the shift at the top, but very soon they would...
He could call Borsalino and go to a tavern. It was a very good thing, this Pika Pika Fruit. You just call your friend and he is here in a split of second (if not entertaining any ladies at the moment that is). Then again, Borsalino would without doubt want to know
everything about today's meeting with Kong and would wonder why Sengoku doesn't spend his free evening with Sakazuki while the latter is not on the mission... Since they were really close friends he would probably end up telling him everything (he would have
found out they were no longer together either way) and he knew the next thing would be a genuinely sorrowful face of Borsalino and a consoling voice 'You don't think he was with you only for that promotion, do you? You can't think that way, even him, no, especially him, would not have done such a thing'. And it would be so obvious he thinks otherwise. Everyone will. Except maybe Tsuru. But...
Knocking at the door has jerked him out of this not exactly leading anywhere depressing stream of thoughts.
- Who's that?
- Me.
Sengoku was staring for a moment at the door. It would be so fairylike, if Ryu came to tell him that he has rethought things and changed his mind, instead of only taking the unfinished report he had left here today morning. And Blackbeard would commit suicide, the prisoners from Impel Down would hand themselves down and Mugiwara would decide to become obediently cooperating Shichibukai. And everyone would live happily ever after. Sengoku stepped over Orpheus, opened the door and looked up into indignation barely visible from beneath the mask of indifference. He really did not know which words were appropriate now and whether there were any. In any case, making Sakazuki stand here whole eternity, into which the mere couple of seconds seemed to have extended, would definitely not be appropriate.
- Er, your report...? - he asked while moving back into his apartment.
- Yes. I'd like to finish it before the new mission starts.
- Of course - Sengoku answered with a voice more tired than he wanted it to be. He moved to his desk and rummaged through a small pile of papers. There was a sound of door being shut behind him and a couple of seconds later a tatooed hand has reached for the small shelf over the desk finding the report with a precision of someone who always leaves things in one and the same place.
- If you don't mind I will get to work.
- Of course - said Sengoku with resignation. So this would be it. After all everything comes to an-
Akainu sat down beside the desk and reached for a pen. Sengoku stared. This was not exactly what he has expected when hearing 'I will get to work'. There wasn't any quick silent steps, no shutting of the door (with maybe a cold salute) and possibly never
speaking to him again. Instead there was a man - who, since had got deeply let down by his longtime lover and even more longtime superior, supposedly were to leave Sengoku once and for all - sitting by Sengoku's desk and writing perfectly calligraphed black
letters with Sengoku's pen. He's been looking for a long moment at Ryu's cold motionless features, searching for an answer to questions, doubts and hope that had risen within him. But the only result was Sakazuki's questioning look.
- Do you want to use this desk? - he asked indiffirently.
- Ah... no, sorry.
Sakazuki immediately got back to his writing, while Sengoku sat down on bed, reached for his book and start to view the letters inside. They were small, tidy, with no unnecessary ornaments and they seemed to constitute completely random groups conveying no intelligible for Sengoku meaning.
He sometimes envied some of his friends their characters. Garp, Kuzan, they would have simply accepted the situation they had found themselves in. And the situation was that his lover was still here, in his room, at least physically by his side, and he wouldn't be, if he didn't mean being with him on the other levels too, right? So what's the point in bothering yourself with unnecessary questions and doubts? If the guy had decided to come back after all, saying not a one word of reproach or anger and behaving
as though nothing has happened, you should just trust in the decision that grown-up man has made and simply behave the same way. If he had wanted a discussion, he would have started it. If he wanted you to beg for forgiveness, he wouldn't have come back. Just be grateful for the happy end, then. Yes, that is exactly how they would have reacted. Lucky bastards. Unfortunately Sengoku would not have become the Fleet Admiral, if he hadn't had the tendency to overthink things. The tendency which was very useful most of the time and did a lot of good for the army, but unfortunately at the same time has been killing his mental and physical health. The tendency that has filled his head with much too many thoughts now. Maybe that's why, while in political discussions
and negotiations he strived to read between the lines and acquire necessary information and actions with indirect questions and suggestions, in his private life he more and more often wanted the things to be direct and clear. He wanted to dispel his doubts by a
simple straightforward questions and get frank answers. He wanted to hear from him what he really does feel under this cold cloak of indifference lined with barely visible anger. He wanted to know why he had decided to come back to him and whether he had come back willingly or just forced by one of many carved in him principles he had never failed to follow. He wanted to talk about everything here and now, so that the weed of bitterness and resentment would not grow up into something big that would overshadow their future relationship.
He put the book away, stood up with determination in his features and gave a decided look at Ryu who was ignoring him, completely absorbed in his report.
...and he went to kitchen to make himself a tea.
'Am I being a loser or is it just that I know him too well?' Ryu was the last person who was willing to forthrightly discuss his feelings. Sengoku spent many years being his superior and a couple of years being his lover and got used to it. What's more, he prided himself that he had learned which minute signals conveyed which feeling and meaning. But sometimes he felt this confidence was cracking. There were moments when he wasn't sure what really was happening beneath this always coldly annoyed expression. And he wanted to know. He wanted to have a clear view on everything to make proper judgement and decisions. He wanted to root out the anxiety which was dwelling deep down and from time to time bothering him, sometimes slightly, sometimes very unnervingly. Especially now, when other problems were no longer pressing him so badly and he finally would have some more time to think about the two of them.
Sengoku sighed and looked once again through the window. The clouds were turning dark purple and there was a single star overlooking the end of another busy day in Marie Jois. Marines in plain clothes and merchants were rushing, some to their families at home, some to the small but jolly entertainment district. Sengoku wondered briefly how many of them ever felt not right - instead of being simply happy - when their important persons got back to them as though nothing had happened at all. Funny thing, human beings and their complicated ways of dealing with each other.
He reached for the little box with his darjeeling tea and suddenly hesitated. A tiny, very stupid and most probably naive thought has come to his mind. But he did not have any better ideas, did he? The hand moved away from the tea and took out the coffee
instead. It really did not have to mean much... but still... wouldn't it be one of those minute signals? Or is he slowly losing his sanity to base his judgement on such tiny things? But sometimes tiny things meant a lot... Boiled water filled the cup and the very
strong, rich aroma of his favourite coffee filled the apartment. He couldn't help but enjoy it for a moment. It was with him through so many bad days and nights, helping him through hundreds of reports and thousands of tired thoughts but instead of getting to
hate it he felt grateful and...
A very clearly audible, annoyed sigh has reached his ears and Sengoku tensed, waiting. One, two, three, four... A crack of the chair and cold words have followed.
- It won't help your insomnia to drink coffee at that hour. I expected I wouldn't have to repeat this phrase on your retirement, by the way.
Sengoku couldn't help a little tired smile and a little tired sense of relief. Of course, it didn't have to mean much. Stupid, little thing, it didn't have to mean much, but... you don't bother about insomnia of a guy, who just let you down in something that much important to you, if you don't really care about him, right?
Of course, it doesn't mean everything is alright now, but at least one thing perhaps is... hopefully...
Ryu watched his weary smile with annoyed face, standing between the study and the kitchen and after a very short moment came to his side. He reached for the two new cups, poured the water inside and started to boil it in his typical, practical way, by keeping them in his palms. Soon there was black tea in the one and melisa in the second.
- Erm. Thank you for your, er, thougthfulness - Sengoku could never stop himself from feeling a little awkward when being treated with melisa. Of course, it was just a sign of true caring for his well-being which caring meant for him a lot... but still his masculine pride suffered a little bit somewhere deep. Drinking melisa. *
- You're welcome - answered Ryu flatly, taking his tea into the study.
Sengoku was looking at him for a moment and made a decision.
- Thank you.
- Yes, I have heard you.
- ...for coming back. - There.
Ryu stiffened for a second, with one hand right above the desk, holding steaming cup. Then he gently put it down.
- Coming back from where? - he asked sharply, giving him a dissuasive look.
- ...from the walk. - answered Sengoku meekly.
Ryu sat down beside the desk.
- That was only an ordinary walk. Only loosers don't come back from something as simple as a walk - he said pointedly and with a clear warning in his voice.
- ...okay, then. I'm just glad... that's all - Sengoku entered the room and sat on the bed, putting his cup on the windowsill. And he didn't lie here. He was very, extremely glad. The worry and questions were still lurking in his mind, but Ryu's reaction somehow make him feel significantly better. It's little things that matter, right?
Melisa was steaming slightly into the darkening sky. The first bats have left their dark shelters and were flying briskly in wide cirles over the streets. Some of them were courageous enough to get near to the lamps, were they could make a feast out of naive
insects. He have heard once that moths think that lamp's light is a moonlight. Sengoku never had much time to wonder about such trifle things, but now, come to think about it, it seemed to him very doubtful. Animals weren't as stupid as people wanted them to
be. But why do they fly like that was a mystery. And no wonder. It's hard enough to understand what's happening in minds of representants of your own species, not mentioning other ones.
- Shouldn't you have some sex tonight? - came Ryu's flat voice. - I can see you're in need to clear your mind. One very great need.
Sengoku looked back at Ryu. The previous annoyance visible in tall man's features seemed to have softened a tiny bit. The ex fleet admiral couldn't help but smile gently, even though he knew very well gentle smiles was not something a Manly Man should
allow himself to do, at least according to Ryu.
- Yes, maybe I should. - he answered quietly, feeling as the anxiety and doubts get away from the small warm feeling a Manly Man should probably be ashamed of. - I don't intend to argue with you here, Ryu.
- Good - answered his lover, his eyes on the report.
Another night was embracing Marie Jois, the Holy Land of rulers to half of the world.
** Thx goes to Tenka for the idea to treat Sengoku with melisa <3