Chapter Text
"Wait, ye never fucking told me ye were homeless!" Kid responded indignantly when Killer blurted out something unnecessary.
They were sitting at their favorite "Pirate Operations Place", which was actually an old playground surrounded and swallowed by mountains of garbage.
The only entertainment left there was:
A slide that leads to a dubious tunnel entrance formed by a bunch of support beams. A small bench, whose seat has half fallen to the ground, as a result of which it has completely ceased to fulfill its intended function, but Kid still calls it a "fence," like on a ship. And in the middle was a "crow's nest," well, more precisely, a carousel, on which they sat.
Above their heads, the dim sunlight was blocked by beams that had burst out from under the mountains, connecting the garbage piles. There was something hanging on them that Kid boldly called a flag.
And so, on this cheap ship, Kid and Killer were faced with the topic of the absence of a home, which the elder had accidentally let slip.
"Ah-.. Well, I..." Killer awkwardly pulled at the recently acquired red T-shirt, which was already stained with blood.
All the rest of the stolen goods were piled up by the "railing".
While Killer was hesitating, Kid began to lose patience, which wasn't unexpected for him.
"We've been friends for about a year, and only now ye're telling me that ye'ave nowhere to live!?"
"I-.. Thought ye'd get mad!" Killer quickly blurted out an excuse.
He always counts on those things that can upset Kid. Last time he fought with him because of an overly abrupt movement. But Killer didn't expect that he would end up pissed off by the fact that he tried not to piss off Kid. After all, the captain's mood is more unpredictable than you can calculate.
Kid hissed in response to the excuse.
"D'ye think I'm some kind of psycho?"
Killer didn't know what to say. If he lies, he'll understand and beat Killer up, if Killer tells the truth, Kid'll just beat him up.
"Well, fuck off too."
Now Kid crossed his arms over his chest, pouting his lips in an offended manner. Killer couldn't think of anything to say to that. There was no point in apologizing; the captain cooled down as quickly as he flared up.
They sat in silence, while Kid occasionally pressed the steering wheel to make the carousel swing back and forth. Killer awkwardly leaned his elbows on his knees to keep his palms together. His look was puppy-dog guilty, even though it was covered by large, greasy bangs. From here it seemed that he was wet, but the only thing that soaked Killer was half-dried blood.
Eventually, Kid gave in. He interrupted his senseless rocking of the carousel and grabbed the steering wheel with his palms to give one serious push. From the sharp movement of their nest and the accompanying rusty creak, Killer instinctively grabbed the railing to keep himself from falling. The whole world smeared into a bunch of gray spots that could make you feel sick. The carousel also tilted to the side with each turn, which only worsened the dizziness. And only Kid on the opposite side was static.
"I have a lighthouse!" He said without a note of malice in his voice, only with a misunderstanding of his partner's actions.
Killer only detachedly lowered his head. Again, he couldn't find anything specific to say. And he didn't really want to. It's hard with friends here. Just keep your mouth shut, and maybe you won't get a knife in the back later—a constant occurrence in Killer's life.
"I know" was the only thing he could answer.
Kid didn't put up with that answer, so he spun them again, this time exceeding his childish strength.
"Well, then live with me, dumbass!"
The world spun too fast, and now Killer felt how bad his state was. Hunger and dizziness are not the best combination.
"Okay! But just stop already!"
Killer closed his eyes to get rid of the nausea a little, but it seemed that even the darkness under his eyelids was spinning along with him. His head was getting heavy; there was a particular pressure in his temples. The last thing he needed was for him to throw up. But what with? In an effort to stop this madness, he stretched his arms forward to grab the steering wheel, which was very much in vain. As soon as he let go of the railing, Kid did it himself, causing Killer to fall to the floor from the sudden braking.
It seemed as if the light circle outlined in the sky was rolling somewhere. He wonders if it was his mind.
A little later, he was kicked in the side. Not hard, but sensitive.
"The fuck are ye lying 'ere! Let's go!" The red head appeared next to him, and again only Kid's silhouette was static for him.
When the captain orders, then you need to do it. Killer can follow orders. He would like to be useful. Maybe he will carry the loot for Kid? It would be the best choice, considering their difference in... everything.
But Kid, who had been zigzagging from dizziness before, had already thrown a huge old sack over himself. It hit him with a loud thud and pulled him back. He fought gravity for a few minutes, even trying to take a few confident steps forward. Killer watched from the carousel, rubbing his side from the blow. Eventually he stood up, the world more or less back to normal, and reached for the bag.
"Captain. Let me carry it."
But the bag rattled. He looked at Killer like a dog with foam.
"Don't touch!... The bag!!..." Kid growled, still puffing with the bag.
The mere thought that someone could call him a weakling (especially Killer) was enough to make him walk more confidently, although the bag was clearly still trying to knock him to the ground.
That's how they walked. Kid walked in front, and Killer trudged behind. They didn't walk any other way.
Killer had already been hit from behind twice by his "comrades". Someone was kidnapped; someone ran away or did something away from his eyes. So he was used to having everyone in his line of sight. Constantly. Besides, it would be much easier this way because he was walking with no one but Eustass Kid.
The kid in front of him liked to walk first, like a leader. He didn't like to turn around and check if they were following him. If they weren't, he didn't care. If they decided to stab him in the back, it would be worse for them. He also didn't particularly like it when people walked next to him. He really didn't like comparing the local people to him. He often kicked or hit Killer for walking too close to him. Sometimes the thought arose that Kid was more of a savage than a genius child.
Meanwhile, the floating islands of garbage turned into hard and dry ground. Not even yellow, but some kind of gray grass was trampled into a lumpy path leading to the old lighthouse. Killer had already seen Kid's house in the past and even looked inside. As the owner himself told him, the two of them are the only ones who know about his shelter. Not counting the people from the settlement with the laconic name of Town.
The building has darkened over time. The paint began to peel off the walls in the form of stubs; some garbage was scattered everywhere. Not the kind that filled even the coastal waters of the island, but the necessary one. At least, looking at it, it seems that the person planned to use it for something and didn't just throw it away as unnecessary.
Killer briefly remembered Eustass. According to Kid, he was an engineer who took care of him in early childhood. And he was the one who taught him engineering. How cool was this Eustass for Kid to respect him? As Killer remembers, he respects no one.
The lighthouse door creaked loudly when Kid kicked it with his foot and then made a creaking groan as a "Welcome back". He almost fell into his shelter. The darkness into which Kid had disappeared immediately emitted a loud rumble of things stored there and later the groan of the owner.
For some reason, Killer regarded this as an invitation, so he hesitantly stuck his head inside. The light stopped hiding the insides of the building and spat out a bunch of metal exhibits and homemade devices. But the most important thing that was there was Kid, who was massaging his childish hands with a bag at his feet. It was amazing how he could even drag such a weight with his petite little hands. Kid was amazing at times.
"A couple of such exercises, and maybe ye'll become even stronger than me." Killer walked inside with a smile.
Kid was offended at first, but then thought about his words, and he bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin.
"Fuck ye, man!" With a note of laughter, he flipped Killer off.
The hallway was littered; it was hard to even stand there. The air was full of dust, although the previous garbage stench had faded into the background a little. Another smell hit his nose. Moreover, it was so strong that it was able to break through the receptors of the nose, which had been refined over time. It was the smell of gasoline. For two boys, it was still light, although after a couple of minutes, Killer began to feel dizzy.
"So..." Killer looked around and saw nothing but various iron statues, "Where can I settle?"
Kid looked at him sullenly. Then he got up and went to the metal staircase. It circled around the entire tower and rested against the ceiling.
"Get the bag, hobo"
Killer could not disobey.
There was no longer a dizzying smell of gasoline upstairs. And in principle, it was more decent there. A huge round spotlight stood right in the middle, staring at the horizon. Its lens had long since been broken, and the contents had been pulled out. There were some rags and paper in it, which definitely hinted at a bed.
The next notable thing was a bunch of drawings and numbers on the glass. And not a single letter. It was logical: Kid couldn't read or write, only count. Killer could. Although he wasn't as skilled in mathematics as his younger partner. And these equations resembled higher mathematics, unless, of course, they were invented by himself. As if Kid had invented his own language of numbers to take notes, and used a formula as a form of sentences.
Just when Killer thinks that Kid is a little child, he immediately surprises him with his ambiguity. Although... It was good that Kid was comfortable being childish around with him, even if he rarely showed it (or so he thought). Killer was ready to give everything so that Kid's childhood would be happier than his own.
"Throw it here." Killer obediently put the bag on the floor.
Kid ran up to the bag and sat down next to him, hinting for him to sit down too.
"D'ye like the T-shirt?" Kid grinned with his crooked teeth.
Killer nodded slightly.
"My color suits ye!" It was unclear whether it was a compliment or a sign of ownership, but Killer liked it for some reason.
Without further ado, they looked into the bag.
"So, let's see what the Arsonists gave us."
Kid stuck his hand deep inside and rummaged around, licking his lips in anticipation. The bag rattled again from the child's palm. Then Kid gasped in surprise and triumphantly pulled out a bundle of three fish. They looked wrinkled and thin, but even so, any seafood was considered prestigious food here.
Killer's stomach answered for him. The lighthouse carried a loud rumble throughout its tower. It immediately became awkward, in addition to Kid's ringing laughter.
In the end, Killer fried all three fish. He gave two to Kid, as to a growing organism, and took the modest little fish for himself.
After lunch, Kid took him back to the lighthouse to show him something. The boys climbed the stairs and walked around the cracked searchlight. There, behind the glass, cloudy with dirt, was a balcony. In places, broken and rusty railings encircled the entire platform. The iron floor itself creaked suspiciously, and in some parts it already fell away.
But this was not what Kid wanted to show him. This side of the lighthouse ran into a cliff, right into the garbage water. The sea in this part was a sickly green color from all the rot and chemicals left here by the mainland. It went on for kilometers until it finally cleared up to the side, turning into a blue, boundless ocean. There in the distance, a thick curtain of clouds broke off, and the sky there took on a bright pink hue.
"Wow..." Killer managed to exhale.
"That's not all!" Kid leaned his elbows on the railing.
He pointed to the left, and Killer couldn't help but turn around. From this angle, he was immediately blinded by the bright light of the red sun, visible even from here.
"This is my little corner of thought," Kid boasted with a grin. "Ye haven't seen the night here yet! Trust me, it's fucking beautiful!"
Memories washed over Killer. The last time he saw the sea was when he first got here.
He still clearly remembered the horizon, the mainland. The peak of the summer heat, and the boat sailing away into the distance.
It hurt to admit, but he didn't particularly like looking at the horizon with these thoughts. Somewhere on a subconscious level, he still hoped to see a boat sailing towards him ahead.
"Don' tell me ye don't like it?" Kid stared at him irritably.
That's when Killer came to his senses.
"Whatcha talking about?" At that moment, he really didn't understand why Kid was worried about his communion, "Of course I like it... But ye're going to go to sea, regardless of my answer."
The boy's answer apparently offended Kid. A rare worry appeared on the child's face. But Kid almost immediately frowned and turned away, so this emotion was easy to miss (but Killer noticed nonetheless).
"And ye're sailing with me. So stop this bullshit."
Killer nodded in agreement. It seemed that Kid didn't trust him. Eustass Kid didn't trust anyone. But especially Killer, because he is his partner and therefore has gotten too close to him. Here, even the most trusted people can betray you. What good is faith if it doesn't save you from a knife in the ribs? Killer understands this like no one else, so he doesn't pretend to do more.
But where does the line of this mistrust end? Kid clearly trusts him with his secrets, dreams, and even his home, but at the same time, he doesn't allow him to even touch himself. If only they could get to a place where they would not have to worry about this ...
"Killer" Kid said his name, "Whatcha dreaming about? I never asked"
Killer was definitely asked a tricky question. Here you can't think about it for a second ... And if he thinks, he will not be able to answer anything.
"I have no idea"
"How so?" Kid grinned, and Killer turned his head away.
If he really said that he didn't dream of anything, or food, water, or anything like that, Kid would just beat him up. When people told him that, he was disappointed in them.
"Probably to find One Piece," Killer said, without answering the question he had asked earlier.
Kid looked at him intently. For a second, it even seemed that he wasn't pleased with the answer. But then he smiled his crooked smile.
"But I will be the Pirate King!"
The calm landscape was no longer so interesting for Killer, so he focused entirely on Kid. He looked at him with a warm smile.
Seeing how this child could not sit still, constantly rolling from toes to heels, shaking these fences just because they were wobbly—for Killer it was calming. He would never want to babysit anyone, but he still likes looking after Kid, no matter how hot-tempered and pugnacious he can be. Just looking at his endless energy, it seems like the bad streak is finally ending. No matter how terrible it is to live in this place, at least they both have a roof over their heads and each other's company. They'll figure out the rest, like they always did. With Kid's eternal enthusiasm and Killer's intelligence, they'll definitely see tomorrow. And the next day after that, too. Who knows, maybe they'll actually be able to set sail and find that One Piece?
The fire was warm. Yeah. They should've thought twice before messing with the Arsonists. But they were desperate. And desperation led to risky methods.
They found out about Heat's stash, and Killer cut up the guards so they could get to their supplies. But apparently some of them survived. Or maybe it was a lucky guess...
Now the lighthouse was filling with fire; at least Killer found out why it smelled like gasoline inside: the barrels of fuel for the searchlight were stored somewhere in a pile of statues, and as soon as one spark fell on it, there was an explosion. Of course, nothing would happen to the stones. But what to do with the wooden supports or the metal that melted under the onslaught of flames?
The worst thing is that they didn't even want to smoke them out. As soon as the Arsonists saw the lighthouse explode from the inside, they immediately left, assuming that Kid and Killer had blown up. But they weren't dead, although they had received a lot of injuries.
From their perspective, the floor simply blew up under them in the silence of the night, leaving them in complete confusion. Killer remembered a loud boom, and now he found himself lying on the floor with dust all over his body and in his lungs.
His head was buzzing terribly, and because of the loud roar in his ears, for some time he could hear nothing but ringing. When he finally got his hearing back, there was a crackling sound everywhere. And the fire and the building, in general.
Killer doesn't know how long he lay like that on the floor, but the iron flooring under him heated up significantly. There was no smoke here yet, but there was dust that got everywhere: in his eyes, in his nose, and in his lungs. He gritted his teeth, no matter how hard he spat.
Killer rose slowly, still not having recovered from the explosion. His first thought after clearing his consciousness was about Kid.
"...-Kid!?..." Killer had to clear his throat to say something.
His throat was unbearably sore, as if he had eaten spicy curry. His lungs were burning from the dust that had gotten into them. But that was second to his concern. Coughing, he looked around with red eyes.
If Kid had been hit by the explosion, then Killer wouldn't forgive himself for having so recklessly let himself fall asleep. He lowered his guard, damn it!
All the window frames were without glass. Because of the explosion, the windows had completely crumbled, just as the balcony was loudly groaning from such a strong impact. That's where Killer found Kid. His figure stood and looked at the horizon, while smoke rose from below. That's how they knew they were blown up, and they already figured out about the Arsonists themselves; they're not stupid.
Killer ran up to the window frame after Kid.
"Kid! -..."
When Kid started to turn around, the ground suddenly went out from under his feet: the balcony with a screech collapsed down along with him; fortunately, Killer's reaction was faster. He caught Kid by the arm, thanks to the small build of this little brat, and with a jerk pulled him back to the second floor.
There, Kid started to fight.
"Fuck off!" One huge wave of his hand, and he was already on his feet, looking around in confusion.
Kid looked dirty and lost. It seemed that he didn't fully understand what was happening. Killer did not either. But at least Kid didn't look wounded, which was good.
"It's me, Kid! We need to get going before we-..." The floor beneath them made a suspicious creak, but stopped there for now, "...fall."
But Kid seemed not to hear it. He darted towards the searchlight, which had been hit by the explosion. How had he survived? If there was a God, then he certainly didn't want Kid to die like this.
The insides of the searchlight were covered in various papers, but they had been burned in the explosion. Kid still carefully tore them off and collected them, like his valuable treasure. Killer didn't understand. For him, Kid was simply wasting an already short time.
"Kid, what are ye doing!?"Then Kid moved his bed, which was just a huge warehouse of rags, only to reveal a pile of papers hidden underneath. These papers were too valuable to him to just leave them behind. This wasn't enough of a reason for the Killer.
"Kid!" He pulled him by the arm, "Come on, now!"
And he was punched in the stomach. While the Killer sat and coughed on the floor, Kid kept collecting these papers, until finally another plaintive howl of metal was heard.
This time they didn't get off with a warning. The floor began to go down, and the searchlight with it. Kid noticed this in time and got out of there, before the part of the floor that was burned through by the explosion went into the fire on the first floor.
But that wasn't all. The floor pulled the wall with it, and the wall in turn took the ceiling with it, which had already fallen on them.
Now there was little room to go on the second floor. There were no escape routes for Killer: a hole on one side, the blockage on the other, and a collapsed balcony behind him. And the worst thing was that a red head was visible below the collapsed roof.
Kid was pinned to the ground; the air knocked out of him. He lay under the rubble, coughing, with one arm free. A chill ran down Killer's spine because, for a second, he thought his captain had been killed.
When Kid finally came back to his senses, he tried to get out from under the rubble. Maybe he would have gotten out—he was too strong for a small child. But his hand didn't obey at all, and after a couple of attempts, he fell limply to the ground.
"Wha-... Cough! - Why are my hands so weak? - ..." Kid wheezed in confusion.
Killer understood why. So he finally came out of his stupor and grabbed the rubble with his hand.
"Because ye should've given me the bag! That's why!" With a loud grunt, he began to pull the roof up.
It seemed that it was still connected, so it weighed more than Killer could lift. But he's still trying, because if he doesn't lift this damn roof, then they're both done for. If only he were stronger and bigger!
Without warning howl, the floor began to tremble again. This time Kid was in danger of falling.
"Damn it! Killer, hurry up!"
Killer was trying so hard. But Kid was falling further. Smoke was seeping through the holes, clogging the doors in the darkness. That wasn't helpful. The metal was heating up, and soon the smoke and heat had driven out the oxygen. At this rate, they will fall together. If Killer won't step away now, he would die along with Kid. Who cares!
Despair gripped Killer. He wasn't strong enough, no matter that he was bigger than Kid. He couldn't pull him out. The floor was starting to collapse.
"Killer!" Kid pushed down on the debris with his hand "I can't fucking die here!"
"I know!.." Killer strained once more.
The floor was red hot. Kid screamed from the contact with the hot metal. That was what gave Killer extra strength. One last tug, and the roof that had given in lifted a little.
"Ah-.. That's it!" Kid crawled out from under the rubble awkwardly.
Right at that very second, the floor collapsed along with the roof, forcing Killer to jump back. But it didn't end there: the floor was collapsing beneath him, and their little island was getting smaller. Killer crawled back but collapse was following him. If they waste a couple more seconds here, they would fall down.
Looking at Kid, Killer saw him clutching his shoulder with his hand. Focused on the pain, he didn't notice that they were about to fall.
There were no other ways, and Killer was disoriented. His consciousness was looking for any way to escape, and the only thing he came up with is to grab Kid and jump out the window at the last minute. Protecting Kid from falling, Killer felt a blow to his back and passed out.
At first, he thought that this was what death looked like. Pitch darkness and a ringing in his ears. But then he finally forced himself to open his eyes. He was lying on some garbage, which eventually saved him from falling. His back hurt like hell and even cracked a couple of times when he was able to sit up.
"Kid?.." Again, this was his first thought upon waking up.
As soon as Killer muttered his name, Kid immediately appeared with worried screams.
"Holy shit, ye're alive!"
"Yeah..." Killer barely managed to mutter, which caused a bang in his head, "And it seems like I hit my head..."
"Well, that's fucking logical, considering that ye..." Kid looked around, "Pushed us off the fucking lighthouse!"
Judging by his intonation, he wasn't happy about this, but he still helped Killer to stand up and move a little further away from the fire. At the same time, he was cursing non-stop.
"Fuck! Everything burned down! Everything went to hell! My plans, all my calculations! My fucking house burned down!"
After taking a few more steps, Killer bent over from the pain in his body, and Kid helped him get down on his knees. After all, the fall had done its job.
When he came to senses a little, he looked at Kid. He was standing, his back turned to him, and looking at his burning lighthouse. He kept squeezing his burned shoulder with his childish hand. It was unknown what he felt, but Killer understood without words.
He understood what it was like when you suddenly lose your home and you are at a complete loss as to what to do next.
He got up from the ground.
"Kid..." Killer came up to him and pulled his hand to Kid's shoulder.
"Kid, let me see-..." But Kid almost bit him for that.
While Killer recovered from the shock (and a small fright), his captain had already passed him by.
"Let's go" He ordered.
Killer removed his hand. Having moved away a little, he followed him without objection.