when one looks back to their childhood, one remembers the vivid springs of laughter, climbing trees and reaching out for the stars, and making flower crowns in fields of flowers. but when [name] looked back at her youth, it was void of those colorfu...
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chapter 75. little butterfly flies home
[ author's note: enjoy this absolute treasure of a chapter <3 ]
[ that's our dream, isn't it?]
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doflamingo had been given two days to resign from his position as a warlord by law.
since there was time to spare, and supplies running thin enough to justify the detour, the sunny eased into dock at a modern-looking island, its skyline rising in clean, unfamiliar lines against the horizon. the log pose would need the time to reset before dressrosa anyway.
"colleye island," nami announced, gazing out at the buildings with the satisfaction of someone reciting something she'd read on a map. "a modern island, mostly trade and tourism. apparently, pirates rarely make a stop here. it's not exactly pirate-friendly...i don't really wanna stop here, but we have time to spare, and supplies to restock..."
[name] tilted her head, considering this information with great seriousness, "cauliflower?"
"no, you idiot. colleye."
"...cauliflower."
"i just said—"
"let's give her the benefit of the doubt," robin smiled.
the disguises they wore...hopefully they would be enough?
for [name] though, she was dolled up less a disguise and more a transformation, executed with the focused intensity of two women who had decided that no one (excluding luffy, whose [name]-detecting instincts long ago defied science) would recognize her by the time they were finished.
the dress fell in soft cream layers, loose and unhurried, ending in a fringe of small tassels that swayed before she'd even finished moving. a wide white sash looped around her waist with careless precision, gathering the fabric just enough to suggest a person existed somewhere beneath all that drifting cloth. black boots, laced and buckled, anchored her against the softness above, the only part of the outfit that looked like it had any intention of staying put.
her hair remained loose. the red scarf stayed exactly where it always did, wrapped around her neck, and the red string at her hand's wrist — the one that never seemed to leave, regardless of what else changed — sat quietly against her skin.
"we need you properly disguised," nami had said, "ever since we escaped tartarus, not a single newspaper has run your name — even after that end creep warned us they would...i don't trust the silence."
